Star Crossed
by Lana Coombe
Summary: An old acquaintance of Sam Cain's comes to town. Past secrets and misdemeanors unfold, bringing new experiences and beginnings to one of the riders.
1. Chapter 1

**Star Crossed**

There was an air of bustling activity in the town of Sweetwater. After an unseasonal period of wet weather, the citizens of the town busied themselves with re-stocking supplies and acquiring materials for any repairs necessary, due to the damage caused by high winds and torrential downpours.

The employees of the Pony Express, which was stationed on the outskirts of the town, were no exception. Four of the riders were busy loading the buckboard with a variety of boxes, sacks and lengths of wood.

"Beginning to wish I'd agreed to swap runs with Cody," griped Jimmy, as he carried another plank of wood out of Tompkins' store.

"The going's gonna be pretty rough out there. All the rain will of made Jenson's Creek impassable and it's gonna be slow gettin' through with all the mud," grunted Kid, as he hefted out a sack of grain and hoisted it off his shoulder to lie on the flatbed of the wagon.

Ike's hands were a flurry of activity as he signed something and grinned.

"Ike says he hopes all the mud will stick Cody's mouth shut so's we can all get some peace when he gets back," Buck chuckled, as he placed a hand on his mute friend's shoulder and shared the laughter.

"I just hope Lou's okay," Kid added in a low voice, trying not to sound too overly concerned.

"She'll be just fine, Kid. Lou can look after herself," Jimmy replied, sliding another piece of wood into the buckboard, giving him a look of irritation.

Kid was grateful when Sam Cain, the town's marshal, came over, diverting the other rider's attention from his over protective outburst.

"Afternoon, Emma," Sam said awkwardly, as the slim, red headed woman came out of the store with a basket hooked over her arm.

"Sam," came Emma's clipped response, in greeting. "Town seems busy," she commented, casting her eye down the street.

"Nothin' I can't handle," he replied, puffing out his chest slightly. Catching the smirks and knowing looks of the boys, as they loaded the wagon, he countered with a more stern expression, adding, "It's been pretty quiet at night at least."

This was greeted with an outburst of stifled giggles. Emma frowned at her charges, lifted her chin, gave him a challenging smile and calmly continued, "Quiet enough to join us for supper tonight?"

"I reckon I might be able to do that. It'd have to get real busy to stop me enjoying some of your good home cooking," he said, giving a broad smile. Emma gave him a nod of acceptance.

"That's the last of it," Jimmy informed the station mistress, dropping the final sack onto the buckboard.

"Thank you, Jimmy," Emma answered. "Well, until this evening, Marshal Cain," she continued, pulling on her gloves.

Sam was just holding out his hand, to help her up onto the front seat of the buckboard, when a shout was heard.

"Marshal Cain, you're needed at the saloon. Someone's gone and pulled a gun on Bart!"

Sam's jaw clenched and he let out a murmur of exasperation. "Be right with you," he called, tipping his hat to Emma.

"Need a little back up, Marshal?" Jimmy inquired. "Never can be too careful," he added cockily.

Sam sighed. "Just follow my lead and don't do nothin' foolish. I'll let you know if I need ya," he told them, "and keep them guns in their holsters unless I tell ya," he added pointedly at Jimmy.

As Sam and Jimmy started down the street towards the saloon, Buck and Ike glanced at each other and looked at Emma imploringly.

"Go on then, but be careful," she told them brusquely, shaking her head. "You'd better go with them and make sure Hickok doesn't do nothin' stupid," she said, turning to Kid, who scurried off quickly to join the others.

O-O-O-O-O

The airless, mustiness of the interior of the saloon was a great contrast to the fresh, newly washed, earthiness the recent rains had brought to the streets of Sweetwater. Normally at this time of day there would be a general clatter of chatter in the saloon but as Sam entered he was met with a stilled hush. A dozen or so patrons were sat at tables and a small handful was standing to one side of the bar. All attention was focussed on the two figures stood behind the bar. Bart was pressed back against the shelves, which held the bottles and glasses, his eyes wide with trepidation. In front of him was a smaller, saddle tramp of a figure, dressed in mud stained pants and jacket, hat pulled low over the eyes, holding a revolver tight to Bart's rounded belly. A slight tinkling of glass against glass could be heard as the red faced man trembled, shaking the shelves against which he was pressed.

"Now I'm gonna ask you one more time nicely," the assailant said, in a low voice. "**Give me a god damned drink**," they followed, with a yell.

Bart swallowed, his eyes darting with relief in the Sam's direction. "You might want to take that up with the town marshal," he croaked.

"You got exactly five seconds to let go of him or you're gonna have ta answer to me," Sam warned, as he came to stand a few feet behind the pair.

Sam saw the stranger's shoulders tense at his words. "Just put the gun down," he instructed. He was aware of the Hickok boy moving up closer behind him, while the other three fanned themselves quickly and quietly around the room.

This movement was also detected by the ruffian holding Bart, who was getting increasingly nervous, the tell tale signs of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead.

"You got two seconds, mister," Sam persisted. The room was still and hushed.

An audible click of the hammer of a gun being released was heard and the stranger let the gun drop from its close proximity to Bart's stomach, letting it hang from limp fingers. Sam quickly re-holstered his own weapon and moved swiftly forward, looming tall above the much shorter gunman. In one well-practiced movement, Sam reached over to take the weapon and, grabbing the protagonist's shoulder with his free hand, spun them round to face him.

As their eyes met both let out a gasp.

"S-S- Sam?"

Sam looked at the pale, drawn face before him- his eyes widening in surprise when suddenly he felt them sag in his hold, as their knees buckled and eyes rolled back. He took a firmer hold as they began to sink to the floor.

"Dee Dee?" he exclaimed, holding the girl's limp body in his arms.

O-O-O-O-O

The riders and the saloon patrons watched as Sam swept the girl up into his arms and wordlessly carried her out through the parting crowd.

"What's goin' on, Sam?" Jimmy queried, as the marshal made his way to the door.

"She needs a doctor," came the mumbled response, as he shouldered his way passed, dislodging her hat, allowing a wave of fair hair to tumble out.

"Who is she?" Kid asked but his question was ignored as Sam strode purposefully out of the saloon and down the boardwalk towards Doc. Barnes'.

The buzz of conversation returned to the saloon, with the shaken but unharmed Bart holding court, pouring everyone drinks on the house, exclaiming, "If there's one thing more dangerous than a man with a gun - it's a woman with a gun!"

Ike scooped up the hat, which had fallen from the girl's head and followed the other riders out, eager to see what would happen next, only to find Teaspoon and Emma waiting.

"Mind tellin' me what just happened in there?" asked the stationmaster, hooking his thumbs in his suspenders and cocking his head to one side, while Emma gazed down the street after Sam.

"That girl Sam's carryin' was holdin' a gun on Bart. When Sam grabbed her she just fainted away. Seems Sam knows her." Kid informed him.

"Yeah, Sam's got a real way with women, that's for sure!" Jimmy added wryly.

Emma scowled at him momentarily then pasted a blank expression of indifference on her face. "Well, we can't stand around here all day. You all got chores to do back at the station and I need to get supper on or Cody won't be happy when he gets back from his run and finds there ain't no food."

"I'll just stay a while longer to make sure Sam don't need no more help," Teaspoon said flippantly, taking the girl's hat from Ike. "I'll give this back at the same time," he added, as he as he sidled away.

"Mr. Spoon …" Emma started to say but the older man had already beat his retreat.

The boys all smirked knowingly at one another.

"Thought I told you lot ta get moving," Emma snapped irritably, making them jump in response and move to their horses. Emma took one last look towards the doctor's office and made her way back to the buckboard, where Ike was waiting to help her on board.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sam took another circuit around the doctor's outer room, hands on hips, head down. He had been waiting for nearly fifteen minutes now, without any word from the doctor. A number of thoughts, as to why Dee might be here in Sweetwater, tumbled through his head – none of them good. She was part of a life he thought he had left behind and tried to forget.

A sudden shriek, followed by a stream of expletives, from the inner room made him stop dead in his tracks and he rushed to the door of the examination room, only to be met by Mona Barnes, the doctor's wife, who had been assisting her husband, coming out looking agitated. She gave Sam a look of exasperation as she pulled the door closed behind her back.

"Conrad will be out in a moment to give you the details," she said tersely and, before Sam could ask any questions, promptly scurried off to the private quarters at the back of the surgery. The marshal's shoulders sank and he let out a frustrated sigh. The sooner he could get to speak to Dee the better.

"Anythin' I can do to help, Sam?" a gravelly voice asked from behind. Sam turned to see Teaspoon Hunter standing in the doorway.

"No. Thanks Teaspoon. Just waitin' on the doc." The lawman's concern was evident in his furrowed brow.

"Brung this over. Ike picked it up," Teaspoon said, holding up the hat. "Talk is the gunman was a lady," he persisted. Sam merely flicked him a look. "Boys reckon you know her from somewheres." The stationmaster, who was now inside the doctor's waiting area, sank down on the wooden bench, put the hat down besides him and leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. His instincts told him there was a story here and he had enough patience to wait it out. His protective nature towards the members of the Express extended to Sam, as he knew how much he secretly meant to Emma.

Sam removed his own hat and ran his hand through his hair. He wasn't quite sure what was going on himself so wasn't prepared to tell Teaspoon too much just yet. Relief washed over him as Doc Barnes came out from the back room. He nodded a greeting to Teaspoon and came to stand before Sam.

"Well?" the marshal demanded.

Doc. Barnes wiped his hands on the cloth he held. "Nothing too serious. There's some bruised ribs and her shoulder was dislocated but has popped back in nicely. Some swelling but nothing a few days rest won't sort out," he told them as a matter of fact. "Seems she took a tumble from her horse."

"Can I see her?" asked Sam, trying to maintain a professional tone.

"Be my guest." The doctor went to open the door for Sam but then hesitated. "You might want to find somewhere else for her to stay. She's not sick enough to be taking up a bed here and, well … Mona would probably be happier."

Sam frowned, wondering why Mrs. Barnes should have taken such an exception to the patient but pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he entered the doctor's treatment room.

O-O-O-O-O-O

Dee sat with her back to the door, on the edge of the bed, shoulders tensed, as she cautiously tried to stand. A pained hiss slipped through her clenched teeth as her feet touched the floor. Supporting her injured left arm, which was now in a sling, she managed to stand but began to sway. In two long strides Sam was at her side, offering his own hand in assistance. She stared at the proffered hand for a moment before raising her eyes to meet his.

Sam took in an involuntary breath. Her eyes were even more captivating than he remembered. Seeing her pale, grey orbs again, which glistened like cut diamonds, edged with a dark rim, brought back a flood of memories – not all of them good.

"Nice to see you again too, Sam!" she said, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

"What d'you think you were doin' at the saloon?" he snapped back.

"I needed a drink on account of my shoulder hurting some and that old buzzard refused to serve me 'cos I was a woman! Guess my need blurred my reasoning some," she replied, with a derisive snort.

Sam shook his head and smiled. "Guess you haven't changed much none. You always were impulsive."

"Well you obviously have," she replied, indicating towards the badge pinned to his vest. "Marshal? How the hell did that happen?"

He inadvertently glanced down at the tin star and then shrugged his shoulders. "Things change. I've changed." He held her gaze before continuing, "So you wanna tell me what happened? How'd you hurt your shoulder?"

"Got caught in the rains, horse slipped on the wet ground and fell and I took a tumble. Landed on my side. It hurt like hell I can tell you. " She winced in illustration as she reached for her jacket which lay over the back of a nearby chair.

"What ya doin' ridin' around on your own out in weather like that? Bit of a long way from Ogallala ain't ya?" Sam enquired.

"Fancied a change of scenery," came the flippant reply.

Sam merely raised his eyebrows in response. "And he let you leave, just like that?"

"Not exactly," she mumbled. Knowing it would have not been easy for her to leave, Sam was sure there must be more to the story. Looking at Dee's pale, strained face he thought it was probably best not to push too hard at this moment.

"You're gonna have to take it easy for a few days Doc reckons," Sam told her as he picked up the jacket, taking in its mud splattered and worn condition, before slipping in over her shoulders. "Bit of a change of style for you, ain't it?" he commented, regarding the rest of her grubby attire.

Dee scowled at him. "What's it matter to you what I wear? You made it perfectly clear you didn't give a damn about me when you left," she snapped.

"I had to leave. I mean, I couldn't stay any longer and …" His gaze slipped down as he found he could not look at her without feeling the need to tell her the truth and he wasn't prepared to do that just now.

"You just left me there – with him!" she spat.

It had been one of the hardest things he had ever done, walking away and leaving Dee at that place but life hadn't been easy for him and after what he had done, he had felt it wasn't his place to help the young girl. The regret had stayed with him a long time and he had thought he was beginning to move on but now she was here in front of him, making him face his past once more.

There was a tap on the door. "Everythin' alright in there?" asked Teaspoon through the closed door.

"Be right out," Sam called back. There would be plenty of time to talk later and find out what had happened but, for now, he had to find her somewhere to stay.

"You'd best come with me," Sam told her gruffly, trying to mask the agitation he felt.

"You gonna lock me up, Marshal?" Dee asked snidely.

Soon as the words had left her mouth she chided herself. The last thing she wanted to do was upset Sam Cain. When she had turned to see his familiar face in the saloon, she couldn't quite believe her good fortune. She had thought she had been leaving those bad times behind when she rode away from Ogallala so it had been a shock to find someone who had played a part in that life, especially one that she had once cared for so much. The anger and resentment she had felt because of his abandonment of her, as she saw it, had quickly risen but then came the relief and satisfaction that here was a man who would possibly care for and protect her. For the first time in a while Dee felt she had been dealt a good hand, one she felt well capable of playing.

Sam was looking suitably chagrined so she rested her hand on his arm. "Look, I'm tired and would really like to get out of here. Don't think the doc's wife thinks too much of me. She took exception to my colourful use of the English language it seems." Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled at the perturbed face Sam was pulling. "Let's just say the doc ain't got a gentle touch and it god damned hurt when he saw to my shoulder, so a few choice words about his parentage may have slipped my lips."

Sam smiled at this, as memories of the vivacious girl he had met a few years ago came to mind. She was a young woman now but she hadn't lost her spirit it seemed. "She'll get over it," he assured her and opened the door out to the waiting area.

As they passed through the door, Teaspoon got to his feet and regarded the girl before him. What he noticed first was her eyes, which pierced him with her gaze. Their unique paleness was mesmeric and he couldn't help being drawn to them. Realising he was staring he cleared his throat and gave her an amiable smile.

"Good to see you're alright, Miss," he said with his usual charm.

"Thank you," she replied a little warily, taken aback by the grizzled man standing before her.

"Dee, this is Teaspoon Hunter. Teaspoon, this is an old friend of mine, Dee Dee Dawson," Sam said, a little uncomfortably.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Dawson," Teaspoon replied, bowing his head to the girl.

"It's Della. Della Dawson. I don't go by Dee no more, " she answered, giving Sam a peeved look.

Unperturbed by her attitude, Teaspoon held out her hat. "Oh, one of my boys picked this up."

Della regarded the hat for a moment before cautiously reaching out and taking it. "Thank you," she mumbled.

"Well, I gotta get Dee … I mean Della, somewhere to stay while she heals up. Thought I'd see if there are any rooms at the hotel."

"Can't I stay with you?" Della asked.

"Now, I don't think that would be … proper," Sam blushed.

"You ain't married or nothin' then?" The words left Della's mouth before she could stop herself. She hadn't meant to be so zealous.

Teaspoon watched the interaction with interest. The girl seemed a might young for Sam but there was evidently some sort of history between them. He couldn't help but think her being around might cause trouble for the marshal but she was in no fit state to leave town. No telling what might happen if she had her own hotel room either. He quickly made a decision.

"Miss Dawson can come and stay at the way station. Daresay Emma would enjoy some female company."

"Way station?" Della queried.

"Teaspoon's stationmaster at the Pony Express a little ways out of town. Emma looks after the riders," Sam explained, frowning at Teaspoon. "You sure Emma won't mind?"

"I'm sure she won't. Emma will sort Miss Della out, just you see." Teaspoons eyes twinkled at the prospect. "You ain't gonna be no trouble are you, Miss Della?" he directed at the girl.

Della put on her most innocent expression, lowering her head a little and looking coyly up at him, through thick, dark lashes. "No trouble at all, Mr. Hunter," she said, slipping her right arm through his and leaning on him for support. "You won't even know I'm there."


	3. Chapter 3

Della smiled smugly to herself as she sat alongside Sam in the buggy, as he drove her out to the Express station. Things were working out a lot better than she could have hoped. She had found Sam and a place to stay, where she felt she would have the opportunity to see him on a regular basis. But the best thing was it was out of town and away from prying eyes, providing the perfect cover she needed.

The vehicle suddenly hit a rut in the road and she let out an involuntary gasp as the movement jolted her damaged ribs and shoulder.

"You alright, Dee?" Sam asked. His concern made her feel warm and fuzzy. Wrapping her arms about herself she let out a little whimper. "Is it much further? It's hurtin' somethin' fierce," she said feebly.

Putting his arm round her back for support, Sam smiled kindly at her. "Not too much further, darlin'," he said affectionately. The warm glow buzzed inside her once more. As she rested her head on his shoulder, it pulled at her ribs and her shoulder ached but the pain was worth it.

Teaspoon, who was riding behind, noted the action and cursed quietly. Perhaps he had let himself – and Emma – into more than for which he had bargained.

O-O-O-O-O

Sam pulled the buggy to a stop besides a neat, white picket fence. Wrapping the reins around the brake, he jumped down and offered Della his hand.

"I'll go tell Emma you're here," Teaspoon called as he rode passed, towards the bunkhouse, where he knew she'd be busy feeding the riders.

Taking Sam's hand, Della got to her feet and gingerly leaned forward so he could lift her down. As he placed his hands under her ribs a sharp pain coursed through her chest. She let out a groan and collapsed against him, letting him support her body.

Just at that moment Emma came out of the bunkhouse, to see Sam's arms wrapped around a fair-haired girl, her head resting against his chest. Wiping her hands purposefully on the cloth she held in her hand she crossed the yard with a business like stride.

On seeing Emma approach, Sam released his hold on Della but she maintained hers on him, holding on a little tighter about his waist with her good arm, while watching the red headed woman come closer, out of the corner of her eye. There was something in the woman's demeanour and the way Sam had reacted which suggested they were more than acquaintances. At this moment Della needed Sam and wasn't going to let some matronly type keep them apart.

Emma stopped in front of the pair, still wiping her hands unnecessarily on the cloth she held.

"Sam." She greeted him curtly before turning her attention to the girl in his arms. Della didn't miss the look of appraisal she was given and from the hardening of the woman's eyes it didn't look approving.

"Emma, this is an old friend of mine, Miss Della Dawson," he said with deliberation, as he extricated the girl's arm from about his waist and took a step towards Emma. "She took a fall from her horse and bruised herself up some. She needs somewhere to rest up until she heals and I, well, Teaspoon thought she could stay here as she couldn't very well stay with me or in the hotel, 'cos you know what folks are like, gossiping and such in town and, well you …"

"I guess that'll be alright," Emma interjected before Sam talked himself a hole in the ground. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Dawson," she said properly. "I'm Emma Shannon and I run this here way station."

It was then that a movement over Emma's shoulder caught Della's attention and she looked over to see a group of people standing on the porch outside the bunkhouse. Six pairs of eyes were looking intently at her. Noticing Della's gaze had been diverted Emma flicked a look over her shoulder.

"Those are the boys who ride for the Express. There'll be time enough for you to meet them later but I guess we ought to get you settled in. You'll be sleepin' over at the house – with me," Emma instructed.

Della looked up at Sam who nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. "Emma'll take good care of you. Go get some rest and I'll come to see you tomorrow. Think we've got a few things to talk about."

"You still gonna come over for some supper, Sam?" Emma enquired.

Sam shifted uneasily. "I'd best get back to town. Make sure everything has settled down. I'll be sure ta come another night, if that's all right with you, Emma?" came the marshal's stilted reply. She replied with a curt nod. Tipping his hat to both ladies, with an agile step, he climbed back onto the buggy. He was about to flick the reins when Della came to the side of the buggy.

"My horse. You'll see he's taken care of? I left him tied to the hitching post outside the saloon," she told him with concern.

"I'll see to it. I'm sure there's room for the animal here so I'll bring him with me tomorrow."

Della nodded her thanks. "Thanks Sam … for everything." She lifted her hand and brought it to rest on his knee. She kept her chin lowered but looked up at him with wide, bright eyes and pouted a coquettish smile at him.

In return Sam cleared his throat and, in a gruff voice, told her it was, "No problem." With that he clucked the horse on and headed back to town, feeling a little warm about the collar and decidedly unsettled.

The smile slipped from Della's lips as she watched him go. The light left her eyes and her expression darkened. She considered how lucky she had been in finding Sam again, although she could not help but feel a twinge of guilt in the way she was using him. There had been a time when she had thought she loved him but now realised it was an emotion born of desperation. Now she merely needed his protection.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Emma saying, "Well, let's get you settled. I'm sure you could use a bath and somethin' to eat." The words were caring but Della felt the older woman was guarded and wary of her and she had to admit she couldn't blame her.

Della turned to face Emma and gave her a quick smile. "Thank you. I 'ppreciate it," she replied self-assuredly, before following Emma through the gate and up the path to the house. Once again she was thankful for her good fortune. Not only had she found Sam but she had found a place to stay, which was out of town, where she could hide out for a while before she decided on her next move.

O-O-O-O-O

Over in the bunkhouse speculation was rife as to the identity of the new arrival. They had watched the exchange between Sam and Emma keenly and had been intrigued by the new arrival.

"Who d'you reckon she is?" Kid asked, propping himself against the edge of the table.

"One of his past conquests!" Cody said gleefully, perching on the table next to him. "Don't look much like his type though, I have ta say!"

"What is Sam's type, Cody?" Jimmy interjected.

Cody looked thoughtful for a moment. "I dunno but it ain't her. She ain't womanly enough for him."

"Just 'cos she wears pants don't mean she ain't womanly," Lou snapped. She was tired after her arduous run and in no mood for the boys' rambunctiousness. All she had wanted was to come back to the way station, get some decent food inside her and some sleep but the new arrival had put pay to that idea. The boys' attitude had her riled now too. "And besides, she's too young to be a …." Lou continued before hesitating, not sure how she would describe and old acquaintance of that type. "Well, she just looks much younger than Sam. More our age."

*Maybe she's his daughter,* came Ike's signed animated response.

"Nope, she ain't that judging by the way she were lookin' at him," Jimmy said impudently, a smirk on his face.

"Wonder what she's doing here?" Buck put in, raising a curious eyebrow. He had only caught a glimpse of the girl but found her intriguing. There was one thing he did know and that was she was trouble, considering the ruckus she was already causing in the bunkhouse even though none of them had even met her. He made a conscious decision he was not going to get involved. He had enough troubles in his life to contend with already.

A thoughtful silence had filled the room, as each let their own thoughts on the new arrival flitted through their minds.

"Well, whatever the reason I reckon we're gonna be seeing a lot more of Sam while she's here," Cody said fervently. The others shared knowing looks, allowing a few sniggers to escape.

Lou scowled. She wasn't too happy at this turn of events and worried that someone was going to get hurt and that person would probably be Emma.

O-O-O-O-O-O

Della stood in the middle of Emma's kitchen, feeling ill at ease as she watched the woman busily prepare pots of water to boil.

"I'll just set this water ta heat then I'll show you your room," Emma told her in clipped tones. "You can get washed up and I'll get your clothes cleaned."

"I don't want to be no bother," Della replied, casting her eyes around the neatly kept home.

"Sam asked me to take care of you and that's what I'm doin'." Emma turned to face the girl, getting her first good look at her. She felt a pang of sympathy when she saw how awkward Della looked, standing in her mud splattered clothes, her mid-length, fair hair, tangled and knotted, her face smeared with grime. Emma's expression softened. She had no right to judge this girl without knowing her story but what she did know was that Della and Sam shared a history and she wouldn't feel totally comfortable until she knew what that was.

"I'll fix you somethin' ta eat while you're gettin' cleaned up. Don't expect those boys have left anything." Della noticed a warmth enter the woman's eyes as she talked about 'the boys'. Perhaps there was an opportunity for her to get close to Sam once more, with Emma being so pre-occupied with her charges.

"That'll be real good," Della said, suddenly realising just how hungry she was, not having eaten since the previous day.

Emma showed her up the narrow stairway to the sparse but comfortable guest room and left her to get undressed. Della took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The stresses and strains of the last few weeks were catching up with her and she was glad of the respite being in Emma Shannon's house would give her and couldn't help feeling a little regret at using the woman in this way. But Della had learnt how to look out for herself a long time ago and this wasn't the time to change her ways.

A couple of hours later, Della was lying under a soft warm blanket, clean and satisfied after the bath and meal Emma had provided. Tomorrow she would start working on a plan. For now, she let herself sink deeper into the bed, closed her eyes and started to drift off. It was a fitful sleep, due to the pain in her shoulder and ribs but at the same time, it was the most secure and comfortable she had felt in a long while.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you for all the reviews so far. This story has been lurking in my head and on my laptop for some time now. I decided to start posting in in the hope it would give me the incentive to find time to finish it in my sometimes busy life. Any words of encouragement gratefully received! Be assured I do know where the story is going, to the extent that I even have a sequel in mind if you readers think it's worth doing. Hope you enjoy the boys and their antics in this chapter._

_..._

The morning sun worked its way through the curtains, creeping slowly across the room, up along the quilted bedcover, until it cast its warm rays on Della's sleeping face. The light woke her and she tried to screw her eyes more tightly shut but the throbbing of her ribs and shoulder told her she had lain still long enough and it was time to be up and get moving.

The acrid smell of coffee wafted from the kitchen below, pulling Della's head from the pillow. Using her good arm, she pushed herself up into a sitting position with slow, cautious movements and slid her legs out from under the bedclothes. Supporting her injured left arm, with her right hand, she carefully got to her feet. The chill of the morning air hit her skin, making it tingle and she let out an involuntary shiver. Casting her eyes about the room she saw that Emma had been true to her word and taken her clothes to be washed, leaving her only with her lacy undergarments, which she had worn to bed.

She remained where she stood for a few moments, letting the sharp twinges throughout her body settle. After retrieving the sling, which she had hung on the bedpost, she slipped it over her head and slid her left arm through. Wrapping her other arm across her stomach, for warmth and to protect her protesting ribs, she slowly made her way down the stairs. Della peered down the stairwell but found the kitchen empty so continued down. Having located the coffee pot, which was keeping warm on the stove, she shakily poured herself a cup.

Sunlight streaked through the window, beckoning her outside to enjoy the warmth it would bring. Spying a long duster coat hanging on the back of the door, Della managed to ease it over her shoulders with her good arm, so as it covered her scant underwear. Picking up her cup of coffee, she made her way outside.

The bright, intensity of the low morning sun blinded her momentarily and it took her eyes a few moments to adjust. The wood planking of the porch felt warm and almost soft under her bare feet. She wriggled her toes appreciatively. Moving to the front of the porch, to get the full benefit of the sun, she hitched one buttock onto the rail, keeping one foot on the ground, to help her balance whilst the other dangled loosely.

Della had started many a morning in this position outside the Rooster Club, where she had lived in Ogallala, just enjoying the peace and quiet, before the rigours of the day began. Resting her head against the post, she closed her eyes, revelling in the feel of the fresh air, relative quiet and the sun's rays stroking her cheeks.

As she inhaled deeply, to draw more clean air into her lungs, the aroma of the coffee caught her attention. Lifting the cup to her lips, to take a sip, she opened her eyes and glanced about, only to see three boys standing outside the barn, regarding her in astonishment.

Raising her cup to them in greeting, she called over "Beautiful day, ain't it?" before taking another mouthful of coffee, swirling it about her mouth and pursing her lips appreciatively. The boys seemed rooted to the spot and Della gave them a wide smile and began to swing her raised leg provocatively, while appraising them individually.

The one wore a red bandana tied over his head, clearly showing his wide, expressive face. She was concerned that some insect would buzz its way into his gaping mouth but there was a gentle naivety about him that she found appealing.

The next boy wore fringed buckskins, like some wild man of the frontier. His bright, blond hair was almost a contradiction but there was no mistaking the glint in those bright, blue eyes, which looked at her with such intensity. The crude thoughts running through his head were illustrated all too clearly in the crooked and playful grin on his face. It was a look she had seen too many times before.

The last boy intrigued her. He seemed to be about the same age as the other two but his demeanour belied his initial appearance. There was a reserved manner about him and he observed her from the lowered brim of his black hat. The way he wore the two pearl handled pistols low on his hips did give something away – she knew his type. They were dangerous but exciting.

Della had nearly finished her assessment of the three boys when the bang of a door drew her attention towards the bunkhouse, from which a distinctive redhead had emerged and was now glaring in her direction.

After draining her coffee, whilst still peering over the top of the mug at the approaching station mistress, she slowly put both feet back on the ground. As she went to stand she realised the coat she was wearing had slipped from her injured shoulder, revealing the skimpy strap of her lace-trimmed bodice, which barely covered her shapely chest, although the sling afforded her some modesty.

"Mornin'" Della called over to Emma. "Hope you don't mind me borrowing the coat. Couldn't seem to find my clothes and it was such a beautiful morning …"

By now Emma had reached the gate of the garden to the front of her house and, from her stormy expression, Della could tell she wasn't best pleased.

"I'd appreciate it iffen you'd go inside," Emma hissed through gritted teeth, her eyes sparking. "I think the boys have enjoyed enough of the view."

"Sure," Della replied amenably. Giving the boys one last smile and a wink, she went back into the house, with Emma close on her heels.

"Now, you ain't still gonna tell me she ain't Sam's sort of girl, are ya?" Cody commented to the other two, with a big, goofy grin. Ike responded with a smirk.

Jimmy continued looking towards Emma's house, with narrowed eyes. There was one thing he did know – whoever that girl was, she was his sort of girl!

O-O-O-O-O

Emma calmly placed the dishes she had carried from the bunkhouse on the table. For a moment she stood with her back to Della, the palms of her hands resting flat on the tabletop, lips pressed firmly together. There was an urge to shout at the girl, asking her to explain such behaviour in front of her boys, but Emma was wise enough to know his would achieve very little. Besides, Sam had merely asked her to give Della a place to stay, not become her mentor.

Turning to face Della, Emma kept her expression passive. "I would appreciate it if you could keep yourself covered up. It ain't right for a 'lady' to go about in her undergarments, especially when there are impressionable boys about." Emma laid great emphasis on the term 'lady' to push her point. "In future I would ask you to stay in the house until you're properly dressed."

Della glared at her defiantly. "You took all my clothes! And how was I to know those boys would be out there?" she flared. Emma's hands on hip stance and tight jaw told Della she may have overstepped the mark and the last thing she wanted to do was get on the wrong side of this woman who had provided her with a safe haven.

Forcing herself to relax, Della took a breath. "I apologise, Mrs Shannon. I guess I'm still pretty tired. I just wasn't thinking. The morning just looked so pretty and all and you've made me feel so welcome, I guess I forgot myself." Della smiled sweetly at the older woman. "It won't happen again."

Emma became less tense too. "Well, as long as we have an understanding, I guess we'll get along fine. Now, how's 'bout I go find you somethin' ta wear while your own clothes are drying and then I'll make some fresh coffee and breakfast?" she said pleasantly.

"That would be real fine, Mrs. Shannon," Della replied with suitable propriety.

When Emma had left the kitchen, Della allowed herself a smug smile. This place was shaping up real well. She was being well looked after and from what she'd seen outside, the view wasn't half bad either!

O-O-O-O-O

"I'm in love!"

The words had barely left Cody's mouth when he had to duck to miss the oily cloth, Ike was using to clean his gun, which was launched at his head. Ike then proceeded to gesticulate with his hands, whilst wearing a wry grin.

Kicking the offending weapon to one side and off the bunkhouse porch, Cody frowned at Buck, who was laughing at what Ike had said. "What's he sayin'?" he demanded.

"He said you've got about as much chance with the girl as getting your face clean with that rag," Buck replied, the laughter still evident in his voice.

"Huh! We'll see," Cody retorted nonchalantly, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the support post of the bunkhouse porch, letting his gaze carry in the direction of Emma's house.

Jimmy continued whittling the piece of wood in his hand and shook his head and smiled. He didn't think any of them had a real chance with the girl, not with Sam on the scene, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be fun trying.

"Will ya listen ta yourselves?" Lou chided, getting more and more infuriated by the boys' banter and drooling by the minute. "What's so special about this girl anyway?" she said churlishly.

"Her underclothes!" Cody blurted, causing the others to laugh out loud.

"You don't know nothin' about her. She's obviously got some sort of connection ta Sam and I think you all ought ta respect that," she retorted.

Kid laid a hand on her shoulder. "They're only funning, Lou," he said gently.

Shrugging off his hand, Lou glared at the assembled boys. "Well, I don't think it's funny," came the sharp response as she stormed inside, slamming the door firmly behind her.

"See what you've gone and done now?" Kid snapped at Cody.

"Me? I didn't do nothin'," the fair-haired rider replied, eyebrows raised as if in complete surprise.

Kid sighed and shook his head and got up from the bench, where he'd been sitting and followed Lou inside.

"Gotta say he's a braver man than me," Jimmy commented, as he lifted his head to watch Kid close the bunkhouse door.

"Don't know why Lou's got so riled, anyhow. I mean, it ain't like I said nothin' 'bout her," Cody groused.

"And that is why you'll never get the girl, Cody," Buck told him sagely. "You don't know when to stop talking."

"Oh, and when did you become such an expert, Buck? Don't see many girls lining up for you neither," Cody retorted.

Everyone went quiet, knowing Buck's luck with women had more to do with his heritage than his courting abilities.

"Like Buck said, Cody, you just don't know when ta shut up," Jimmy said, folding his pocketknife and getting to his feet. He tossed the piece of wood he had been whittling at Cody. "Here, use that to capture a girl's heart," he quipped before and strolling off towards the barn.

Cody caught the object and looked down to see a small, carved arrow nestling in his palm. Twisting his mouth into a snide smirk, Cody slipped the arrow in his pocket.

O-O-O-O-O

No matter how many times she tried, Della just couldn't do up the last couple of buttons on the blouse Emma had given her to wear. Not only was she hampered by not being able to move her left arm very easily but also the blouse only just met across her chest, as she was obviously a little better endowed than the station mistress. Eventually she gave up and returned to the kitchen with the blouse open at the neck, with the top of her camisole showing.

Emma was busily stirring a pot on the oven and only gave a cursory glance over her shoulder as Della came down the stairs.

"I'll be with ya in a minute. Just don't want ta let this burn so's I need ta keep stirrin'," she said, as she drew the wooden spoon through the thickening sauce in the pan.

"I can do that for you, Mrs. Shannon," Della told her, coming to stand at her side. "I've still got one good arm and I'm sure you'd like the help. Those boys out there look like they take some feedin'," she quipped.

Keeping up the rhythmic pace of the spoon, Emma regarded Della with an appreciative smile. "Well, that would be right helpful," she responded and pushed the utensil towards the girl. As she stepped back to allow Della easier access to the pan, she suddenly noticed the girl's bared chest, at least the top of it. Emma's lips hardened into a thin line.

Noticing the change in the woman's demeanour, Della followed her gaze downwards. Realising what had caught Emma's attention, unperturbed she merely carried on stirring.

"Had some trouble doin' up the last few buttons, on account of my bad arm but I guess it don't matter too much," she said casually but there was a glint in her eye as she waited for Emma's response.

"While you're here, I will remind you to act like a decent, young lady and leaving yourself exposed in such a way is not decent. Here, let me help you." Without waiting for permission to be given, Emma pulled the fabric of the blouse together and, with a little difficulty, managed to slip the last couple of buttons through the eye holes. "There, that's better," she said with a certain degree of satisfaction.

Looking down at the now fastened buttons, Della pressed her lips together and suppressed a smirk, before returning her gaze to Emma. "That's real kind of you Mrs. Shannon. I surely do appreciate it." She couldn't help but smile to herself. It had been a while since she had been referred to as a decent, young lady.

Emma responded with a nod and turned her attention back towards the stove but, out of the corner of her eye, gave the girl a measured look. There was something about her she didn't quite trust and it wasn't to do with Sam. She was more than capable of looking after wayward youngsters, as she had proved many times over with the Riders but she felt she would have to be extra vigilant with Della.

"Think this sauce is about done." Della's statement interrupted Emma's thoughts. "Best use it before it goes cold and gets a skin," she continued to inform her.

"You sound like you know about cooking," Emma queried.

"Some," Della replied but not expanding any further.

Emma decided that if this girl was going to be staying under her roof, she needed to know a little more about her, especially her connection to Sam.

"Where'd you learn?" Emma probed.

For a moment Della hesitated. She wasn't sure how much she needed, or indeed, wanted to share about her past but if she appeared too reticent it would look suspicious.

"I learned a little where I as working," she replied, pouring the sauce into a jug Emma had provided.

"Where did you work? In a hotel?" Emma persisted.

Not quite knowing how to describe the establishment where she had been Della simply said, "Yes," and busily scraped the last smears of sauce from the pan. Sensing the girl's reluctance to expand Emma decided to leave it for now. Perhaps Sam would be able to enlighten her when he came calling.

O-O-O-O-O

Della carried the sauce jug carefully with her good arm, as she walked across the yard, towards the bunkhouse with Emma. She was looking forward to meeting the young men she had seen that morning and was glad to be out of the confines of the house.

As they approached the door a raucous laugh and a clattering came from behind it, causing Emma to let out a loud sigh.

"Give it back, Cody. It ain't none of your business," came a sharp and demanding voice.

"Aw, Lou, I was just admirin' it. That there's some real pretty lace," came the animated response.

"Just give it back, Cody," growled another deeper voice.

"I can fight my own battles, Kid!" came the shrill voice once more.

It was at this point that Emma reached the door and threw it open.

The scene to greet her, and Della, was of the blond haired boy standing on a bench, dangling a piece of women's under attire from his fingertips, just out of reach of a small, brown haired boy. On the other side of the table, dressed in worn buckskins stood another boy, with hands on hips, glaring at the blond.

"Cody, git down," Emma barked, "and give those back to Lou, right now.

With a shameful look Cody slunk off the bench and hid the undergarments behind his back. "I was just funnin', Emma," he pleaded.

"And I'd appreciate it if you don't stand on the furniture and got the table laid for lunch," the station mistress told him sternly.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said meekly.

"And give them things back to Lou," Emma instructed as she strode over towards the kitchen area of the bunkhouse.

Cody brought his hand from behind his back and glanced at the lacy fabric in his hand, before holding them out tentatively towards Lou with a contrite expression. She hesitated for a moment, flicking an uncertain look in Della's direction, before snatching the bloomers from Cody's hand and scrunching them up into a tight ball in her hands.

Della watched the proceedings from the threshold. The authority, with which Emma handled these boys and the respect she was able to command, astounded her. The admiration for the woman grew a little more.

One by one, as the other boys noticed the fair-haired girl standing behind Emma they quietened down and regarded her with curiosity. Emma noticed where their gaze was directed. "Boys, I see you've realised we have a guest today so let's get on with laying the table and then I can introduce you all."

There was an instant flurry of activity. Plates clattered onto the table, the twang of metal as knives and forks were placed around and the clink of glasses. It was a matter of moments before the table was laid and the riders clambered to take their usual seats. Della slipped by, slyly watching the bustle, as she went to aid Emma.

As the boys got themselves seated, Emma rolled her eyes at the display of youthful exuberance but maintained an air of calm and control. When they were ready she took a platter of meat to the table and beckoned Della over with a nod of her head.

"Boys, this here is Della Dawson, a friend of Sam's, who'll be stayin' with us a few days while she heals up." She hoped the mention of the town's marshal would indicate their position as to the girl.

Cody was instantly on his feet. "Pleasure to meet you properly, Miss Dawson," the blond boy said politely. "I'd be honoured if you would care to sit next to me," he added, pushing Kid to one side to make space for an extra person and indicating the place with a sweep of his hand. With a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes Kid complied, sliding to one side and offering Della a pleasant smile.

"That's very kind of you Mr…?" She raised her eyebrows questioningly at him.

"Cody. William F. Cody. Billy if you like," he beamed at her.

"Well, thank you … Billy," Della responded flirtatiously, forming her full lips around every syllable as she sashayed around the table. She knew all eyes were on her, scrutinising her every move and she had learned enough to know how to use her assets to full advantage, although the ache in her ribs and shoulder restricted her total capability. Stepping over the bench to take her place she raised her leg a little higher than necessary, allowing a flash of shapely ankle and leaned forward a little more than would be normal, giving a clear view of her well-formed cleavage as it strained against the tight fastening of the buttons. Eyes bulged and jaws slackened – even Lou's – at Della's antics, whilst she gritted her teeth against the sharp stabbing in her ribs.

Emma pursed her lips but said nothing. She couldn't help but feel to remonstrate with the girl would only be playing into her hands and get the boys off side, so she stayed quiet but keenly anticipated speaking to Sam at the soonest opportunity.

"Well Billy, seeing as you've taken it upon yourself to play host, you might as well go on an' introduce everyone whilst I dish out the meat," instructed Emma.

With his usual flair and flamboyance, Cody swiftly introduced the riders sat around the table, barely taking a breath between names, making it difficult to take in each one. Della, however, was left in no doubt as to who Billy Cody was, as he sat real close when he had finished and took the seat next to her. With quiet fortitude, Della put up with his close proximity, as she had had to do on many previous occasions, without letting her annoyance show.

As everyone began to settle down to eat, with an overly attentive Cody making sure she wanted for nothing, Della chanced a look around the table at her fellow diners.

She shared the bench on her side of the table with Cody, to her right and Kid to her left, with the small dark haired Lou to his left, on the end. Opposite her were the two other riders she had seen that morning. On the end was the one with a bandana on his head, who regarded her shyly, his head dipped, as he pretended to be very interested in the potatoes on his plate. Next to him was the one with long dark hair and a strong, set jaw, who seemed to be eying her suspiciously, in between spooning beans onto his plate. There was something about him she found challenging and disarming but very attractive. She made a point of meeting his gaze and holding it a little longer than necessary. It intrigued her how quickly he looked away - he obviously wasn't as confident as he made out.

To his left sat another dark haired boy, with soulful eyes, who she hadn't really noticed before. He was certainly as good looking as the rest of the group but seemed more introverted. She put this down to his mixed blood, as it was obvious from his features he had some Indian flowing through his veins. She didn't know too much about Indians, apart from what she'd been told and now wasn't the time to find out as she had more pressing matters to consider.

Throughout the meal Della was asked many questions. She managed to avoid giving too much detail at first, giving vague answers and making idle chit chat but the line of questioning became more probing – especially from Cody - as to her connection to Sam. She managed to bypass the true answer, merely saying they had met a few years previously when Sam had come to work for her guardian, before feigning tiredness, so she could make her escape back to Emma's house.

Cody gallantly offered to walk with her but she rebuffed his offer saying he was sure she could manage on her own and how Mrs. Shannon would appreciate some help clearing the table.

In the sanctuary of Emma's spare room, Della collapsed back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Perhaps being here wasn't such a good idea after all, with so many prying eyes and curious minds. What she did know was she hadn't totally lied about being tired and she soon drifted off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you for all the encouraging reviews. Della's story is slowly unraveling. I've got a few more chapters already written so hopefully it won't be too long before I upload more of the story._

...

It was late afternoon and all was quiet at the way station. Teaspoon had returned after lunch had been cleared away, although Emma had miraculously managed to save him something to eat. The talk in the bunkhouse was still of the guest and it was clear one or two of the boys were rather taken with Della. It didn't take the greatest powers of observation to see the looks of disapproval, which flitted across Emma's face, as Cody enthused once more about the girl's attributes.

The tension between the fair-haired rider and Jimmy was also hard to miss. Both seemed to have taken a fancy to the girl and, to be honest, Teaspoon wasn't at all surprised she had raised the interest of these young men. She was a good-looking girl, with an air of worldliness about her, who would arouse the interest of even the most virtuous of men and if he was ten – maybe twenty years younger - he would have been competing with those two young men, vying for her attention!

Teaspoon decided it was time the riders settled down and the best way he knew to achieve that was to keep them busy. So, having eaten he got things organised. He took Kid, Lou and Cody to collect a new string of horses. Jimmy had been sent on a short run and was due back that evening.

Ike was tending to an injured horse in the barn, which had cut its leg on a broken fence post. Buck was busy getting ready for an overnight run, checking over his horse and tack, when he heard the sound of approaching horses. He looked up to see Sam riding into the yard, leading a grey gelding.

The marshal rode over to Buck and dismounted. "Awful quiet about here," Sam commented. Buck acknowledged the comment with raised eyebrows.

"Emma's over at the house," the young Kiowa informed him, releasing his horse's leg, which he had been holding to pick out its hooves.

"Where's Dee … I mean, Della?" Sam asked.

"She's in the house too," Buck told him, noting the way Sam was fiddling with his horse's reins as he cast a look over towards the whitewashed building, with a certain amount of trepidation. Buck allowed himself a small smile. It wasn't often he had seen the marshal looking this nervous. He wasn't quite sure whether it was Emma or Della who he feared most – perhaps it was the idea of both of them together.

"She seems … nice," Buck commented ambivalently, running his hand over his horse's rump.

"Yeah, she can be," Sam replied distractedly but then realised what he'd said. "What I remember. It's been a while since I've seen her. She's grown up some." Noticing the amusement on Buck's face, as he peered over his horse's back, Sam decided his best option was to stop talking before he piqued the boy's interest too much. Besides it was no use putting off talking to Della and he did need to know why she was here and what had happened back in Ogallala.

Sam cleared his throat and tied his horse to the fence. "Well, best go on up to the house then. Oh – this is Della's horse. When you got a moment perhaps you'd take care of him for me. I'd best get on up to the house," he said decisively and began to saunter over towards Emma's house.

With an enigmatic smile, Buck watched him walk away before shaking his head and taking hold of the grey's reins and leading it over to the barn.

O-O-O-O-O

Sam's clenched hand hovered a few inches from Emma's front door, as he hesitated before knocking. With a sharp intake of breath he rapped loudly with his knuckles. It was a matter of moments until he heard footsteps coming briskly to the door and a second or two later he was looking at Emma.

"Sam," she greeted. "Been expectin' you." She pulled the door wider, keeping a neutral countenance.

The marshal berated himself for the way this small, red headed woman could so easily make him feel like an awkward schoolboy, as he snatched his hat from his head and clasped it against his chest.

"Sorry. Was busy in town and, well, this is the first chance I got to come out and …"

"I'll go get Della. Why don't you take a seat on the porch and I'll send her out." Emma turned on her heel and disappeared back inside. Sam stood on the threshold looking at the ajar door. He fidgeted nervously with his hat and then started pacing up and down the porch. No matter how he tried he could not think of what to say to Della. There was so much he should say but he just couldn't think of the right words.

"Hello Sam." Her chiming tones caught the marshal by surprise and, as he turned to face her, he was taken aback by how much she'd changed since he had seen her in Ogallala. The dust and grime, in which she had been coated the previous day, had obscured her feminine appearance somewhat. There was, however, no mistaking those distinct eyes of palest grey, surrounded by dark, long lashes. Her lips seemed to have plumped up some and pouted at him prettily, like a plucked rose bud, with a suggestion of a smile. He remembered her hair being long and light in colour, tied with a ribbon in a loose ponytail but now it was shorter, to just below her shoulders, thick, wavy and the colour of desert sand.

But what he mainly noticed was her womanly figure and he found it hard to overt his eyes from the buttons, straining to contain her shapely bosom, within one of Emma's blouses.

Bending lower, so as to be in his line of vision, Della gave Sam a crooked smile. "It's been a while, ain't it, Sam?" she said, delighting in the way his eyes shot up to meet hers and the reddening of his cheeks.

"Yeah, I mean, it's only been a few years but – well, look at you. You've grown into a fine lookin' woman, Dee."

"There was a time when I had the impression you thought I was a fine lookin' girl," she added brightly.

"No denying it but you were just that – a girl. There was too big an age difference and I told you that at the time. You know I cared about you, but there could be nothin' more. It wouldn't have been right."

"Well, as you seem to have noticed, I'm all grown up now, Sam." She ran her hand down his arm and gave him another twinkling smile.

Placing his hand on top of hers, he gave it a firm squeeze and then lifted away from his arm. "There's still the same age gap, Dee. I still consider you a friend and I'll try and help as much as I can but that's all I can offer."

Swallowing down the disappointment she felt, Della merely gave him a coquettish look, softly saying, "We'll see."

With a sigh, Sam shook his head. "What you doin' her, Dee? And what were you doin' yesterday in the saloon? Could have got yourself shot pullin' a stunt like that."

With a derisive snort, Della moved over to the porch swing and eased herself down, whilst holding onto her injured arm with her other hand. "Wasn't really able to think straight. My arm was hurtin' somethin' bad and all I could think was a drink would ease the pain some. When that old coot refused to serve me, well I guess I got a little crazy!"

"Girl of your age shouldn't be drinkin' no how," Sam commented dryly.

Della looked up at the marshal and raised her eyebrows. "We both know that it wasn't much of an option for me. 'Bout the only thing that got me through some days."

Sinking down next to her on the seat, Sam gave Della a sympathetic look. "I know it weren't easy for you. One of the reasons I felt so bad 'bout leavin' you there but it wouldn't have been right for you to come with me."

"Wasn't right me bein' there in the first place!" she countered angrily.

"I know, but you've moved on it seems" he said softly, trying to placate her. "What happened? I mean, how come Meyer let you leave? He's still your guardian ain't he?"

Della shot him a look of irritation. "He was only a guardian in name. Never did much for me. Only reason I ended up living in that place was 'cos my father got killed. Turns out it was Victor's doing. He was the one who shot him – well, as good as."

At these words Sam looked horrified and quickly got to his feet and stepped away from her, to the edge of the porch where he stood clasping the rail with a tight grip.

"You knew, didn't you?" she asked, accusingly.

With his back still to her, Sam nodded. "I had a pretty good idea," he responded huskily.

Sam closed his eyes, wishing he could block out the memories.

_After his wife had died Sam had been on a course of self-destruction, tracking down all those who he felt had been involved in her death – in reality, murder. After the incident where a young boy had witnessed the killing of his father, at Sam's hands, he had vowed to straighten himself out. Finding himself financially strapped, he had been keen to find employment as quickly as possible. A large town, like Ogallala, seemed a good place to start looking. A chance meeting in a saloon with one of Victor Meyer's employees had steered him in the direction of the Red Rooster Club and, before the day was out, he had been offered a job, overseeing the bar and gaming room, as a hired gun. _

_The Rooster's proprietor had struck Sam as a decent enough man. His manner was relaxed but there was an air of control about him, as he sat in a large leather chair behind the dark, wooden desk, dressed in a smart three piece suit, which was tailor cut but practical. His manner had been straightforward, which Sam appreciated._

_Hoping that the propriety of the business would mean there would be little call for him to draw his gun and his purpose would be more to deter any would be trouble makers, Sam had accepted the position. All had been well until that fateful day when Della's father had died and the young girl became Meyer's ward. It was unclear what events had brought this about. Mr Dawson and Meyer were known to be friends – some said maybe even business partners. There had been talk of a falling out but no one had thought it would result in Mr Dawson's death. When Della went to live in the large house, Meyer owned on the outskirts of the town, it came as a surprise to the majority of the folks in town, none more so than Sam, but no one dared question it. In general, Victor Meyer was a respected businessman, although not everyone approved of his establishment – mainly the wives of those who frequented the premises. _

_Sam had only been working at The Red Rooster a little over a month when he first met Della. He so clearly remembered the day when Victor Meyer had ridden up to the front of the Club with Della sitting behind him, her pale hands clasped about his boss' stomach. Meyer beckoned him to come help the girl down and that was the first time Sam had seen those striking eyes, as he lifted her down from the horse. They sparkled like jewels and he fully understood why her father had called her his 'little diamond'._

_Although it must have been daunting for the young girl, she showed no sign of intimidation and, in fact, stared boldly back at Sam. In his heart Sam knew it wasn't right for her to be there. For all ostensible purposes it appeared to be a respectable business – a gentlemen's club, where members could enjoy fine dining, a spot of gambling and the company of 'respectable young ladies', but its smart appearance belied the dealings, which went on behind its walls and doors. _

_Dawson's death, and the part he had played in it, had shaken Sam. He had wanted out of the job but Meyer had made it clear that wasn't an option. Della's arrival had stalled him further. After what had happened he felt a sense of responsibility for the young girl and did his best to look out for her._

_Business dealings at the Rooster intensified and became increasingly less lawful. As Della lived at Meyer's home Sam didn't get to see too much of her but when he did she seemed to be in good health and spirits, so he began to think he had misjudged Myer and his motives. _

_It was after another business deal had gone wrong and Sam once again found himself caught in the middle that he had decided it was time to move on, move away from Ogallala, Meyer, the Red Rooster and leave Della behind. He had left a note for her as he had been unable to see her without raising suspicion and he had got on his horse and ridden towards a different future._

"You gonna stand there or are you actually gonna talk to me and tell me what really happened that night my father got killed?"

Sam focussed his eyes to find Della staring intently at him. He felt his face flush under the scrutiny.

"I've nothin' to tell," he responded quietly. Narrowing her eyes, as she studied his expression, Della knew Sam wasn't being totally truthful.

"Guess it don't make no difference now anyhows. What's done is done. I know Victor killed him. That's why I decided to leave and there isn't nothing he can about it as I don't think his claim to being my guardian would stand up in a court of law – besides I'm almost twenty one."

Sam was slightly taken aback by her comment. It seemed only the other day she had been a fifteen-year-old girl. By the time he had left she had turned sixteen,

"Did he … I mean, how did Meyer treat you all those years? You seemed to be doing well when I left but you were of an age when, well, I just thought …" Sam looked away, not quite able to say what he was thinking.

"You want to know if he did anything to me or made me one of his whores?" Della replied bluntly. Sam's head shot up in shock, his mouth gaping.

Della threw back her head and let out a sardonic laugh. "He tried but I was always one step ahead of him. I realise that my father's death gave him some kind of guilt, which offered me a little respect. I moved out of the house about a year after you left and went to live at the Rooster. Mrs Blake, you remember her don't you – housekeeper as Victor use to call her? Madam more like it, but she did run a smooth ship, well, she helped me out. Gave me a bed and got me to work helping her around the place. Taught me a few things about running a business. I helped out in the kitchen too. Turns out I'm not a bad cook. "

Sam let out a gentle sigh of relief. He had always thought Della was destined for a sad ending but here she was, a strong, independent young woman.

Seeing his reaction Della couldn't help but think she had lost Sam's attention.

"As I got older Victor lost patience and said I had to start really earning my keep. I couldn't avoid the inevitable forever but I did manage to side step most of the time. The other girls taught me some 'handy' things …" Della accompanied the comment with a hand gesture causing Sam's jaw to tighten in shock but he managed to retain composure. Della needed support, not judgement at this moment and hopefully he'd be able to guide her back onto the right road with Emma's help.

Della hadn't missed the brief look of shock on his face however. She knew she had his sympathy now.

"It wouldn't belong before I came across a punter who wanted more so I knew it was time for me to get out of there. I want more from my life, Sam," she told him fervently, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"And you deserve more, Dee," he said kindly, reaching out to touch her cheek. She released a single tear and, as it ran its course down her cheek, Sam responded by taking her in his arms and softly kissing the top of her head.

Just at that moment Emma came through the door carrying a tray of tea. She faltered a moment before placing the tray on the side table. "Thought you'd be thirsty with all you got to talk about," she said somewhat pointedly, before making her way back to the house. "I'll bring some cake," she continued with clipped tones.

Sam took a step back, aghast and Della managed to stifle a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. Brushing passed him to the table she sat primly besides the table. "Shall I pour?" she asked in equally proper tones.

"Huh?" was all Sam was able to utter. Della shook her head and poured two cups of tea and settled back in her seat to enjoy the hot beverage and wallow in Sam's awkwardness. She couldn't help feeling uncomfortable and a little guilty when she had seen the hurt in Emma's eyes however and resolved to make it up to her, after all the woman had let her into her home and shown only consideration and kindness.

When Emma returned she found Sam standing where she'd left him and Della sipping tea, like a lady.

"It's your favourite – apple cake," she said conversationally.

"Oooh, I love apple cake too," said Della, leaning forward eagerly.

Sam looked at both women and then suddenly swept up his hat. "I better be gettin' back to town. Thanks for the tea and cake, Emma. You take care now, Dee and I'll come by to see you again soon. I really ought ta be goin' now. Buck took care of your horse," he blustered. In his haste to leave he nearly fell down the porch steps and then almost ran down the path to his horse, swung swiftly into the saddle, hurriedly tipped his hat and set off back to town at a good pace.

Della could contain herself no longer and burst out laughing. "You'd never believe that man could hold his own against a band of outlaws, would ya?" she giggled.

Emma's mouth, which had been formed in a hard straight line, suddenly curved and she joined Della in her good humour. "No you wouldn't, would ya?" she replied. "Any tea left in that pot?" she asked as she slid into the seat next to her houseguest.

"Plenty," came Della's cheerful reply.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Della couldn't remember the last time she had felt so relaxed. She felt even happier now she was on better terms with Emma Shannon. Although she hadn't divulged all the details of her past, she had enlightened the older woman as to how she knew Sam and how kind he had been to her. For her part, Emma now had a better understanding of Della's intentions towards the town marshal and knew her fears were unfounded. Della Dawson was just a young, frightened girl looking for some stability in her life and had hoped, misguidedly, Sam would be able to provide it. Having seen the flustered state in which he had left that afternoon, Emma knew she had little competition for Sam's affection.

Having eaten three pieces of apple cake Della was feeling very contented as she sat gently swinging on the porch seat. The sun was still warm, although it was getting lower in the sky and she closed her eyes as she enjoyed the feel of the last rays of the day on her face. She happily hummed a tune to herself, revelling in the feeling that she could relax and not be totally on her guard.

The sound of a soft footstep on the wood planking of the porch therefore made her jump and her eyes snap open to find a pair of solemn, intense, dark eyes gazing at her. As she went to sit in a more upright position to greet her visitor a sharp spasm shot through her injured arm and she let out a cry.

Buck immediately dropped the saddlebags he had brought over from Della's horse and made to move towards the house to get Emma.

"I'm fine. Don't go botherin' Ms. Shannon," Della breathed. "Just moved a little too quickly is all." With a sigh she managed to compose herself and take a proper look at the young man stood before her. Squinting up against the glare of the sun, which had slid behind his tall, slim body, she smiled and said, "You took me by surprise. Didn't hear you come through the gate or nothin'."

"Sorry,' he replied softly.

"No need to apologize. Not many men who can catch me unawares," she smirked, taking a delight in the blush that flushed his cheeks and the way he shifted uncomfortably at her words, letting his gaze slip to the floor. She noted the way his long, dark hair slid forward, framing his lean face, accentuating his expressive eyes. "Buck, wasn't it?" she encouraged.

His reply came in a brief nod of the head.

"Sam said you'd seen to my horse. Is he okay?" she asked, as she manoeuvred herself to sit up straight.

"Yes," Buck replied, somewhat curtly. "He'd been ridden hard and had a few cuts and knocks which I tended. He should be fine after a few days rest and some good feed." The look he gave her was accusing.

"I'm afraid the weather got the better of me and I guess I did push him hard. He must have got a few knocks when we took the fall. Seems he came off better than me though," she said, raising her arm which was held in the sling.

Buck snorted derisively. "I brought your saddlebags," he continued. "Thought you might need them for a change of clothes," he said, with a raised eyebrow. Della was slightly taken aback by the forthright comment from this outwardly shy man. There was obviously more to him than she had first thought.

"Much obliged."

A sudden holler of "Rider comin'" from across the yard made Buck spin round. He raised a hand in acknowledgement to Ike who had appeared from the barn, holding Buck's horse. With a quick glance back in Della's direction he gave a polite nod. "Got a run," he informed her succinctly before trotting down the steps and loping towards his waiting mount.

Della watched on appreciatively as he swung effortlessly into the saddle, gathered his reins, holding his horse back until the incoming rider passed him a pouch. "Ride safe," Jimmy Hickok called out, as Buck set off at a swift pace.

Della's attention was now taken with the incoming rider as he swung his leg over the back of the saddle and dropped lightly to the ground. She couldn't help but smile to herself as she caught him looking her way. After a brief exchange of words with Ike, Jimmy swept off his hat and banged it against his legs to dislodge the dust, which had settled on his clothes, coating him in a fine covering.

Since seeing Della on the porch that morning, in little more than her underwear, she hadn't been too far from Jimmy's mind throughout the day. He had seen the hungry look in Cody's eyes and had no intention of letting his fancy talking bunk mate get first shot at the girl. Having consulted with Ike he knew that Cody was still out with Teaspoon so had determined to strike as the opportunity arose. Taking a deep breath, he strode purposefully towards Emma's house.

Through half closed eyes, Della watched him approach, as she pretended to doze. She liked the look of his broad, strong shoulders, his steady, confident stride and the way his gun belt clung to his hips. Here was someone who appeared to be able to handle himself when faced with conflict and, to her mind, he didn't look like he would lose too often either. If Sam wasn't available then this might be the man she needed. She would have to play her hand well to insure his allegiance because she was sure that soon she would be sorely in need of a protector.

With a relaxed casualness, which belied the knot in his stomach, Jimmy swung open Emma's front gate and sauntered up the path leading to the porch. Seeing that Della seemed to be asleep he hesitated and began to have second thoughts. Just as he started to turn away he heard a gasp and turned to see Della looking at him wide eyed.

When Della saw him falter she knew she had to act to regain his attention. Letting out an audible gasp, feigning surprise, she laid a hand on her chest and breathlessly said, "Oh! You startled me." With over exaggerated blinking, which caused her thick lashes to flutter, she held his gaze. She was surprised to see his startled reaction and the look of nerviness in his expression.

"My apologies, Miss," he stuttered. "I didn't mean to frighten you. Just thought I'd come and check on how you was doin'."

Softening her expression and smiling sweetly at him, Della replied, "That's real kind of you … Jimmy." The pause before his name was deliberate, firstly to double-check herself to make sure she had it right and secondly to make the most of slowly forming her plump, full lips around each syllable. It had the desired effect, she noted, as he swayed a little and his eyes became darker and larger.

"Would you be kind enough to help me up?" she continued. "This arm of mine makes movin' around a little awkward." She raised her good arm for Jimmy to take hold of and waited.

Jimmy didn't need to be asked twice and gallantly stepped forward and took a firm hold under her arm and gently pulled Della to her feet. As she stood she swooned a little and gripped Jimmy's muscled, upper arm and did a good job of acting woozy.

"You alright, Miss?" His concern made the corners of Della's mouth twitch.

"I'm fine. Just got a little dizzy. Just not used to sitting about so much, I guess." She kept a hold on Jimmy's jacket sleeve and leaned in slightly towards him. "And please, call me Della," she continued, smiling sweetly up at him.

Jimmy responded with a genuine smile of his own, as he placed his hand gently on top of Della's, which was wrapped about his arm.

"Perhaps a little walk would do you good, if I hold on to you?" Jimmy suggested. "It's getting cooler now and there might be a bit of a breeze over by the barn."

"Why thank you, Jimmy. That is a good idea. I'd like to check on my horse anyway. Sam brought him back for me. One of the other boys saw to him but I'd like to take a look myself, if that's alright with you?"

"Be my pleasure." Jimmy felt a fluttering in his stomach. This was going much better than he had anticipated.

For the next half an hour Jimmy showed Della around the way station and told her about the way of life he and the other riders led. Della listened attentively and asked him many questions, mainly about himself. He was flattered by the interest she showed and he tried to reciprocate but each time she managed to shift the focus back to him or some interesting fact about being a pony express rider. He didn't mind too much as she was real pretty to look at and that was enough for him.

They had just finished looking over Della's horse when the rumble of approaching hoof beats was heard. Stepping out of the barn they saw Teaspoon and the other riders driving a band of horses before them.

"**Get the gate**," Kid yelled. Jimmy ran over to the corral, swinging the gate open just in time for the herd to flood through. As the horses settled, the riders came together and Della walked over to join them. Cody beamed in delight when he saw her, jumping nimbly down from his horse and landing right besides her.

"Good to see you looking so well, Miss Dawson," he said, giving her one of his best smiles.

"I'm feelin' much better, thank you," Della replied. "Mr. Hickok's been lookin' after me real well," she continued, as she smiled over at Jimmy whose attention was taken with securing the gate.

Cody's eyes widened. "That's real good to know," he responded through tightly drawn lips as he darted a peeved look in Jimmy's direction.

Sensing the tension Teaspoon intervened by telling the boys they'd best get their chores finished and wash up for supper. As the group began to disperse, Cody seized his opportunity. "Perhaps you'd allow me to escort you back to the house, Miss Dawson," he said, with full propriety. Before she could answer, Teaspoon once again stepped in and taking her arm, told Cody there was no need to put himself out as he would see the young lady back to Emma's.

Cody opened his mouth to protest but a steely glare from the station master told him it would be a mistake to push the issue any further, so he reluctantly tipped his hat to Della and went to join the others.

Taking her by the elbow, gently but firmly, Teaspoon guided Della towards Emma's house. "I'm guessin' you're feelin' a lot better, Miss Dawson. You seem to be getting about just fine."

Della was left in no doubt to the insinuation of the stationmaster's words and gave a small appreciative smile. She had taken a liking to the older man as, in many ways, he reminded her of her own father.

"Oh, much better thank you, Mr Hunter. Still a little sore but I'm being really well looked after. Everyone's been so kind and generous." Her eyes twinkled mischievously and Teaspoon couldn't help but appreciate her audaciousness and spirit. He knew there was a tale to tell and he had a feeling it wouldn't be straightforward.

"Do you have plans for when you're feelin' better? Was there some place you was headed?" he enquired.

"No where in particular. Guess I'll just wait and see what comes along," she replied, noncommittally.

"How are you for funds? I mean, do you have money for travelling?"

"A little and I have my horse."

"Not too safe for a woman to be travellin' about on her own out here. I'd think carefully before you leave."

By now they had reached the bottom of the steps to Emma's house.

"I'll be sure to do that, Mr Hunter," she assured him, before climbing the steps and disappearing inside the house.

Teaspoon stood looking at the closed door for a few moments. There was something that girl wasn't telling them, of that he was sure.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

That evening Della found herself eating her supper alone in Emma's kitchen, having been told she looked tired and that eating in the bunk house might be a little too much with which for her to cope. She had tried to protest but the hard look she had been given let her know this was a battle not worth taking on.

She didn't mind too much as she was actually still feeling a little sore. Besides there would be plenty of time to use her charms and womanly wiles on the riders. It was clear to see they were a loyal and honourable bunch and by becoming their friend she hoped it would work to her advantage. It was wise to take precautions she told herself.

After a good night's sleep Della awoke keen to get on with the day. She dressed in her own clothes, a pair of work pants and plain, green calico shirt, which Emma had now washed and dried. She pulled on her boots and tied back her wavy, blonde hair with a strip of leather.

Descending the stairs, she found Emma busy baking biscuits for the riders' breakfast.

Della greeted Emma with a cheery, 'Mornin'" before helping herself to a cup of coffee.

"Good to see you looking so much better," Emma said, as she placed the last few biscuits on a plate, "and to see your dressed!" she added, with a pointed look.

Della laughed. The more she got to know this woman, the more she warmed to her. "I am feelin' a lot better today. My arm's still a little sore but I can use it a little. I'd be happy to help out about the place. I'm not too good at sittin' about doin' nothin'."

Emma gave her an appreciative smile. "I'm sure we'll be able to find you somethin' to do but nothing too strenuous. That shoulder ain't healed yet and I'm bettin' your ribs are still a little tender."

"They don't feel too bad but I guess you're right. Would you like me to take those flapjacks over to the bunk house, Mrs Shannon, seeing as I've got my clothes on today?" Della asked cheekily.

It was Emma's turn to laugh. "I guess that would be fine, just remember those boys are here to work and run the mail," she warned, as she handed Della the plate of biscuits.

"Yes, ma'am," came the respectful reply.

O-O-O-O-O

When Della arrived at the bunkhouse she found the table neatly laid. On entering she noted there was a hungry look on a couple of the boys faces and she suspected it wasn't all for the breakfast they were soon to eat. It appeared they looked a little more groomed than the previous day too, with hair swept back – Jimmy and Cody in particular, although Lou looked like all he had done was have a cat lick of a wash after doing his morning's chores.

Della placed the flapjacks on the table and greeted everyone politely.

"Good morning. Mrs Shannon will be over directly," she informed them. She noted Cody slipping sideways on the bench to make room for her but she made towards Jimmy and smiling sweetly at him, squeezed herself between him and Lou.

Cody struggled to hide his disappointment but a wide smile and a flirtatious wink from Della raised his spirits once more.

"How are you feelin' today, Miss Dawson?" Cody asked.

"A lot better, thank you," she replied, taking a biscuit and nibbling on it.

"We normally wait for Emma before we start eatin'," Lou said pointedly.

Della turned to look at the boy sitting to her side. She hadn't really paid him much attention as he was way too scrawny for her tastes and now as she inspected him more closely she felt a little perplexed. She tried to determine how old he was, as there wasn't any sign of hair growth on his face. The glasses he wore masked his eyes and, as she looked at him, Della noted the way he pushed them further up his nose, as if trying to hide behind them.

Now she was looking at Lou closely Della realised he was sort of … pretty. She couldn't think how else to describe it and if anything there was something decidedly feminine about Lou, in the curve of his lips, the length of his lashes, not to mention his delicate hands.

Giving Lou a friendly smile, Della replied, "I do apologise. I've been made to feel so welcome here and so at home that I forgot my manners. Do forgive me." Della had learnt when it was easier to appease rather than cause confrontation and in her previous life it had saved her skin on many an occasion.

"Don't take no notice of Lou. He can be a right prissy when he wants to be!' Cody interjected, giving Lou a hard stare. "After your ordeal you'll need to get your strength back and the best way to do that is to eat something."

"Yeah, Cody's the real expert on eating," Jimmy chipped in sarcastically.

Cody was just about to offer a retort when Emma arrived, carrying a large pot and a tray. Ike was the first to get to his feet to help, taking the pot. Kid quickly followed relieving her of the tray. Emma gave them both an appreciative smile.

"Well know, it's good to see you all here ready for once without me havin' to ask for the table to be laid.' The comment was accompanied with a raised eyebrow.

Breakfast was soon under way. Cody played the perfect gentleman, passing Della anything she needed, while Jimmy sat slightly awkwardly next to her. Della's close proximity was making him nervous and the way her thigh brushed against his under the table at regular intervals was very distracting. He was relieved when Teaspoon came through the door providing a distraction.

The stationmaster greeted everyone with a cheery "Good mornin'" and swept his hat from his head and gave Della a gallant bow of the head.

"Good to see you lookin' so much better, Miss Dawson."

When the pleasantries were done, and Teaspoon had filled his plate and taken a few mouthfuls, he gave the riders their instructions for the day.

Cody had a long run to Fort Worth. Ike was on a shorter run, while Kid and Lou were mending more storm damage on the side of the barn. Jimmy was taking a run the next day so he was on a rest day, which meant seeing to his horse and tack, making sure both were fit for the job.

Cody wasn't too happy about being away from the way station, or rather he wasn't happy being away when Jimmy was going to be staying

Emma announced she would be washing and requested any clothes that need doing, so the riders went to retrieve what was needed from their bunks.

Della started to clear up the plates.

"You're a guest here, Miss Dawson. No need for you to be doin' that," Teaspoon told the girl.

"I'd rather be useful, thank you Mr Hunter. I'm used to workin' and I'd much rather you called me Della. Miss Dawson sounds so formal," she said, smiling sweetly at him.

Teaspoon almost blushed as her pale eyes twinkled at him and she gave him a lopsided, cheeky smile.

"Then you must call me Teaspoon," he replied, hooking his thumbs in his suspenders. Emma watched the interchange, shaking her head. This girl seemed to be able to charm almost any man, no matter of their age. Perhaps she ought to keep Sam in her sights when Della was around after all. She didn't think it would take much for Della to get Sam in her grips and Emma wasn't about to lose the one man who had caught her eye, since her husband had left, to some slip of a girl.

Perhaps a day doing laundry would use up some of her energy and divert her attention. Nothing like a pair of Jimmy's socks to bring you back to reality!

O-O-O-O-O

Della hummed a tune happily as she pushed the shirts into the soapy water. In a way she found the rhythmic sloshing relaxing and she would much rather be kept preoccupied so that she didn't dwell on her over all situation too much. Although she knew the sanctuary she had found at the way station couldn't be permanent, it was giving her some respite from the strain and apprehension, which she had been under. It was all of her own doing of course but that didn't make it any easier to handle. What was done was done and she had no regrets as to her mind it was totally justified. After finding out what Victor had done to her father she knew she could no longer stay at the Red Rooster. It was time to make a life for herself but she knew Victor wouldn't just let her leave.

Emma had been surprised and pleased when Della had happily said she'd be pleased to help with the laundry. Not only was she glad of the help but it would mean the girl wouldn't be spending too much time with the boys – in particular, Jimmy. Emma had noted the way they had sat together at breakfast and the looks they had exchanged. She had also seen the disappointment in Cody's face as he sat across the tale from them. It didn't take much to cause rivalry between those two boys and she could do without the disruption. These boys had a job to do and did not need the sort of distraction a girl like Della would bring. She would talk to Sam when he came to call later that day and try to ascertain what he intended to do about Della.

The chance to speak to Sam came sooner than expected. Emma was just about to go into the house to make some sandwiches for lunch when the sound of an approaching rider made her look round. She instantly recognised Sam's familiar, lean figure, sitting tall in the saddle. Lifting the back of her hand to her brow, to shade her eyes from the glare of the midday sun, she watched him pull his horse up at the white picket fence surrounding her house.

"Mornin', Emma," he called.

"It's comin' on afternoon, Sam Cain," she informed him. "You're just in time for some lunch.

"Well, that sounds mighty good to me," he grinned. "How's Dee doin' today?" he asked more sombrely.

"Oh, she's doin' just fine!" came the sardonic response.

Not picking up on the intonation, Sam merely said, "That's good," as he tied his horse to the fence. Emma smiled to herself, shaking her head in amusement. For an astute man he could be somewhat oblivious.

"Where is she? I'll go say hello," Sam said somewhat self-consciously.

"Out back, doin' washin'" Emma replied.

"Washin'?!" Sam was a little taken aback by this news. "Should she be doin' that with her ribs an all?" he asked.

"Sam Cain, you should give the girl some credit. She was happy to help and is takin' it easy. She's quite capable."

"Oh, believe me I know how capable she is," Sam muttered as he headed towards the back of the house.

When Sam rounded the corner all he saw was the steaming washtub but there was no sign of Della. The sound of feminine laughter drew his attention towards the barn.

As he got closer more laughter drifted on the air and the lower tones of a male voice could also be heard. Slipping through the door it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness of the interior of the barn.

"Dee!" he exclaimed. Jimmy was backed against the rack, which held the saddle he was repairing while Della stood in front of him pulling at his shirt buttons. "What the hell ya doin'?"

"Sam! I was just …. " She flicked a look at Jimmy and grinned. "Emma asked me to wash the riders' shirts and I thought the one Jimmy's wearin' looked like it could do with a wash," she answered matter of factly.

"I don't think Emma meant for you to take the shirts off the boys!"

"Oh! Really?" Della replied with feigned innocence.

Jimmy was busily doing the buttons on his shirt back up and gave Sam a nervous look. "Wasn't my idea, Sam".

"Didn't put up too much resistance either, I bet," came the marshal's caustic reply.

Jimmy shuffled his feet awkwardly. "I best get on with fixin' this saddle. I got a run later."

"Think that sounds a good idea – both fixin' the saddle and bein' away on a run. I want to have a talk with Dee any way," Sam said, giving Jimmy a meaningful stare.

"Right. I'll just go get some more leather strips," Jimmy replied as he sidled passed a smirking Della and scuttled out the barn.

Sam gave her a look of exasperation. "What the hell ya doin', Dee? Mrs Shannon has been real kind takin' you in and she's a might protective of her boys."

"Then I think she's a bit greedy keepin' all those handsome, young men all to herself!" Della retorted. "And I asked you not to call me that no more," she added.

Sam sighed. "Alright, … _Della_," he replied. "We need to talk."

"What about?" she replied warily.

"Wanna tell me what happened back in Ogallala? I know Meyer wouldn't have just let you walk out so somethin' must have happened."

It was Della's turn to look peeved now. "What does it matter? I left and I ain't goin' back. Victor Meyer had no right to take me there in the first place, let alone keep me there against my will. I can look after myself now."

"You ain't been too good a job of that recently. What would have happened if you'd pulled that stunt in the saloon in some other town where I wasn't the marshal? There's no tellin' what could have happened." Sam stepped closer to her now, tilting his head to one side and placing his hand on her shoulder.

Della smiled up at him. "Yeah. Got lucky there. Couldn't believe it when I turned round and saw you. I do 'ppreciate your helpin' me out, Sam. As soon as I feel up to it I'll move on and leave you in peace."

"Ain't no need for that. Perhaps we can sort somethin' out 'round here for you to do." Sam gave her what he hoped was a friendly smile of reassurance.

Della put her own hand on Sam's, which rested on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze and pulled away. "I'd best get on with the washin'. If I don't get those shirts done the riders are goin' to be walking around naked!" she said, mischievously before heading out the barn door, leaving a speechless Sam staring after her.

It occurred to him he still hadn't found any more out about how Della had managed to leave the Rooster and Meyer. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. There was also the worry of divulging too much of what he knew and that was something he really wanted to avoid. What was done was done and no matter what he did could change that now. Let sleeping dogs lie was the best course of action as far as he was concerned.

O-O-O-O-O

A short while later, Emma called everyone to the bunkhouse for lunch. She noticed Jimmy was uneasy when Della entered, busying himself at his bunk until everyone was seated before taking his place across the table from Della. Sam seemed to be watching them both closely too. She would have to ask him about it later but for now she had hungry boys to feed.

Kid and Lou soon polished off their share of the sandwiches, washed down with lots of water. They had worked hard on the coral posts that morning but were in good spirits. There seemed a very close bond between these two, Della had noticed. She was also aware that Ike was even quieter than normal and seemed to be missing Buck. They were a strange pairing but one that seemed to work. Without Cody about, in fact it was generally much more peaceful, without his constant chatter and comments. Jimmy, she concluded was definitely the strong, silent type. He would be more of a challenge but she still felt he would be the most useful if she needed some back up.

As soon as everyone had finished eating they went back to their jobs, leaving Della to clear the table. Emma started to pull the sheets from Cody and Buck's bunks.

"Would you mind puttin' these through the tub for me, Della?" she asked, bundling them into a ball. "If they get washed now then they should be dry by the time the boys get back. I'll finish up here if you would be kind enough to take these."

"Sure," Della replied taking the sheets. They were grubby but, compared to some of the sheets she had dealt with at the Red Rooster, they were sanitary.

As Della happily headed out the door with the bundle, Emma smiled appreciatively. She was beginning to warm to the spirited young woman. At least she didn't seem afraid of hard work and was of a cheerful disposition. It was good to have another woman about the place – apart from Lou, one that she could talk woman to woman with more openly.

Sam drained the last of his coffee from his cup. "I guess I ought to be getting' back to town," he said unconvincingly.

"Let me just put these plates to soak and then why don't we go for a walk and have a talk," Emma replied.

"What d'you wanna talk about?" Sam said apprehensively.

"Della," came Emma's succinct response.


	8. Chapter 8

There was a certain satisfaction in watching the grime float to the surface of the washtub, as Della plunged the sheets into the warm, soapy water with the dolly, twisting and turning to encourage out the dirt. It was something she had done numerous times before, at the Rooster, but this time Della felt she was really moving on, leaving that tainted life behind, ridding herself of the filth she felt had clung to her.

Perhaps Sam was right and she should consider making a life for herself here in Sweetwater. There again, it was too soon and she knew she had to keep moving. Victor Meyer was a tenacious man and wouldn't rest until he found her. As soon as she felt fully recovered she would move on before she became too attached to the place – or someone.

She smiled to herself as she remembered the look of shock on Jimmy Hickok's face when she reached for his shirt. He may look and act like a man but there was a boyish innocence about him, which she found irresistible. Perhaps it was the thought of being with someone through her own choice, someone of similar age, which appealed. Besides, he was very good looking!

At the Rooster good looking men were few and far between and certainly there had been none to which she felt attracted, apart from Sam. She had been lucky to have Mrs Blake to look out for her to some extent but there had always been the chance that Della would find herself in a compromising position, one from which she would not be able to escape. As she got older the chance of avoiding such an encounter got less likely and after a particularly close call with a visiting business man, with extensive waistline, greased back hair and plumps lips, which glistened with the moisture of anticipation, Della had been determined to leave. It had taken her two months to get out but now she had she was resolute to never be drawn back to that way of life.

By now the sheets were washed and she had finished the final rinse through and fed the sheets through the mangle, squeezing out the majority of water. She carefully put them into the basket, taking care not to drag them in the dirt and began to carry it over to the drying lines, pausing half way to catch her breath when there was a sharp twinge in her ribs. Her shoulder was aching too. By the time she reached the drying area at the back of Emma's house she was feeling a little light headed. Seeing an upturned bucket in a shady spot, she decided to take a moment and have a sit down before hanging out the sheets to dry.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the cool planks of the side of the house. She was beginning to feel a lot better when she heard footsteps and the low hum of conversation. Emma and Sam were at the front of the house. She smiled to herself. This could get interesting she thought, especially when she heard her name mentioned.

"So, how's Della really doin'?" she heard Sam ask.

"She's doin' just fine, Sam. Her ribs don't seem as bad as the doctor first thought and she's copin' with her arm. Have to say she's a tough girl. I'm thinkin' she's had a hard life."

"What makes you say that?" Sam seemed a little surprised at Emma's comment.

"Just the way she handles herself and deals with other people. She don't seem at all intimidated by the boys and, as you well know, they can be a rowdy bunch."

"I guess she had to grow up fast and, living as she did, she had to learn to look after herself and how to handle people – especially men!"

Della swallowed down the truth of Sam's words.

"How did she grow up? You gonna tell me some more about her, Sam Cain or are you gonna keep me guessin'? Think I deserve to know a little bit more about the girl I got stayin' under my roof."

"I'm sorry, Emma. Guess you do. It's just that Dee reminds me of a time of my life I'd rather forget."

Della blanched at his admission but stayed quiet and still.

Sam began to fill Emma in on how Della had been bought to the Red Rooster establishment, where he was working, admitting that it was not that long after his wife had been killed and that his role was, unfortunately, mainly as a hired gun.

Emma remained silent, listening intently, not judging him. She knew parts of his past and felt pleased that he was willing to admit his history to her.

"Dee should never have been brought to that place. Meyer had no right to do what he did," Sam snarled.

"What did he do, Sam?" Emma asked softly.

Della heard the sound of boots scuffing against the wood flooring and footsteps. Sam had evidently stood up and was pacing.

"After Dee's father died, Meyer took it upon himself to become her guardian. He had been a friend of Dawson's and no one in the town disputed it. What they didn't know was that Meyer and Dawson had a falling out."

Della held her breath. Sam had stopped talking and she could almost feel the tension.

"What they fall out about?" came Emma's calm question.

"Dee," Sam replied flatly.

Della's eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a gasp. She had no idea of the reasons behind her going to live with Meyer. She had just accepted what she had been told at the time – that it had been her father's wish if anything were to happen to him but she did not know her father and Victor had a disagreement over her.

"Dawson had never quite got over losing his wife when Dee was only a child. He owned a ranch out of town and at first he spent his time taking care of his stock and young daughter. When Meyer opened the Rooster, Dawson began to come into town more regular, at first just to drink in what was supposedly a respectable establishment. He soon got drawn into gambling and his debts began to mount up. Meyer loaned him money at first but then started tapping into his assets, taking shares in his property. It got to the point where Dawson would never be able to pay him back."

"So where did Della fit in?" Emma prodded.

"Dawson had been called to the bank as he had defaulted on payments there too. He tried to release some money against some land but was told he had no right to them as he had relinquished them to Meyer. Dawson had no recollection of doin' this. His drinkin' had gotten worse. He came to the Rooster to challenge Meyer."

Again Sam hesitated, steadying his breathing.

"Meyer said something to Dawson, in regard to his daughter, indicating that she would be a sealing factor in a business deal. I'm not sure exactly what Meyer proposed but an argument broke out. I heard the shoutin' and went to the office. As I opened the door I saw Dawson pull his gun and aim at Meyer. Guess I just responded."

"What you sayin', Sam?" Emma's voice was tight, anticipating the answer.

"I shot Dawson. It was me who killed Della's father."

"Oh Sam!" Emma exclaimed.

"As Dawson lay dying he said, 'Don't let him have my little girl," Sam rasped emotionally. "Weren't nothin' I could have done. The sheriff was called and Meyer gave him an account of what happened. It was becomin' public knowledge that Dawson was becoming a drunk and a liability. Poor Dee knew nothin' of this. She had been kept sheltered out at the ranch. Next thing I know is Meyer is bringin' her to live in his big house outside of town. Wasn't right, Emma but there weren't nothin' I could do. Meyer knew he had a hold over me as it were me who pulled the trigger. I tried to look out for Dee and protect her, makin' sure she was safe, which she was while out at Meyer's house, although I can't be sure of all that went on there. In the main, I think he treated her all right to begin with but, as she got older and more womanly, I guess things changed and she left the house. When she came to live and work in the Rooster it was the final straw for me. I hated to leave her but I couldn't stand seein' what is was doin' to her so one day I just up and left."

"Couldn't you have taken her with you?" Emma voiced what Della had always thought.

"How could I, Emma? She was a young girl and had taken a shine to me, mainly because of the kindness I'd shown her out of my sense of guilt at havin' killed her father." I had no set future. I was takin' to the road which is no life for a girl."

Emma slipped a consoling arm about Sam's waist, as they stood on the front porch of her house, looking out across the plains, unaware that Della was sat only a matter of feet away from them and had heard every word.

O-O-O-O-O

She wanted to scream, to run around to the front of the house and confront Sam. She wanted to hit him, to yell at him but instead Della remained sat on the upturned bucket, her teeth clenched as she fought the emotion welling up inside. She began to tremble, her cheeks glistening with the tears, which silently coursed their way down. She felt lost – displaced, like nothing was real anymore.

Blindly she got to her feet and headed towards the barn, which appeared as a dark blur through her tear filled eyes. She didn't know where she was going. But knew she couldn't carry on pretending nothing had happened.

Luckily all the riders were busy on their various errands so no one noticed her enter the barn, where she saddled her horse. She struggled against the pain in her shoulder and ribs as she lifted the saddle and tightened the cinch. Her horse stood compliantly still as she used a bale of straw to mount and ride quietly away from the way station towards Sweetwater.

O-O-O-O-O

Emma stood with hands on hips, a puzzled expression on her face, looking at the basket of freshly washed sheets, sitting in the yard next to the washing lines. She looked around but there was no sign of Della. She called over to Lou and Kid who had finished fixing fences but they had not seen Della either. Nor had any of the other boys. Emma debated as to whether to send one of the riders to town to let Sam know but decided she'd wait a while and hope the girl turned up later.

...

_Thank you for all the kind reviews. I know that Della isn't the most likeable character but I'm hoping she will gather some empathy as her story unfolds. So have you worked out who she's going to fall for yet? Not sure it's going to become clear for a couple of chapters. I will try and update as soon as possible but life is a little busy at the moment but hopefully I'll add more chapters soon. _


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The shadows lengthened, as the sun sank lower in the sky, fore warning of the coming night. Buck pushed his horse on, keen to be back at the way station before the darkness would make riding more difficult.

His run had not gone badly but neither had it gone well. He tried to ignore the snide remarks and jibes about Indians, which greeted him whenever he had a delivery to the army but it was hard to completely block out their bitter words of condemnation. All he wanted now was to be with people who accepted for who he was, without any bigotry or malice.

If he pushed his horse a little harder he should be able to make it back for supper. The corners of his mouth lifted at the thought of Emma's hot, home cooked food and the playful banter, which normally accompanied each meal.

He was so lost in his thoughts, with the anticipation of biting into one of Emma's melt in the mouth biscuits, he almost didn't notice the change of rhythm in his horse's stride but did see the flicker of the ears. Alerted by these movements, Buck instantly became more vigilant, scanning the surrounding area.

It was then he heard what he thought was a cry. Pulling up his horse, he sat and listened, trying to determine from which direction the sound was coming. Another wail drifted through the air and, turning his horse to the left he headed towards the sound.

As he came to the top of a rise he saw a figure stood on the top of a bluff, arms out stretched and singing! Despite the odd screeched note, the tune was melodious and he slowed his horse, enthralled by the rise and fall of the voice – a girl's voice. Drawing closer he realised it was Della.

It wasn't until she could almost feel the horse's breath on the back of her neck that Della realised there was someone there. She swung round, swaying slightly and looked up at the mounted figure.

"Hi!" she said, seemingly totally at ease.

"What are you doing here?" Buck demanded sternly. It was obvious that the girl was out of sorts, the half empty bottle of whiskey in her right hand, giving an obvious reason.

"Enjoyin' myself," she replied with the exuberance of intoxication.

"You shouldn't be out here on your own. It's not safe."

Della lifted the bottle to her lips and took a swig and narrowed her eyes at him. "Why? You gonna scalp me?" she smirked.

Buck flinched but ignored her. He was used to those sort of comments but he'd had more than his fair share for one day at the army fort. With a sigh he got down from his horse.

"Don't you think you've had enough of that stuff?" he asked, indicating the bottle in her hand.

"I ain't had nearly enough," she retorted, bringing the bottle to her lips once more in illustration.

Buck made a grab for the bottle but Della deftly sidestepped. In doing so, however, she lost her balance and began to teeter on the brink of the bluff. Buck's quick reactions saved her from a nasty fall, as he wrapped his arm around her waist and dragged her away from the edge.

Once standing more firmly on her own feet, Della pushed Buck away. "What the hell ya tryin' ta do? Knock me off the top of a mountain?" she said angrily.

"No .. I …" Buck started to respond to the accusation but Della had started to stomp away from him – and the edge of the bluff.

Closing his eyes in frustration, Buck kept his temper in check. Picking up his horse's reins he made his way over to where Della now sat on the ground, taking yet another drink.

"How did you get here?" Buck asked calmly, trying to get some sense from her.

"I flew," Della smart mouthed back.

Buck merely sighed and rolled his eyes.

"My horse is back a way," she continued, more reasonably.

"Well, I'll go get him and then we should head back to the station. Emma must be wondering where you are and Marshal Cain will be worried too," Buck told her.

"I don't give a damn about Sam Cain!" she spat angrily. "And I ain't goin' back."

Buck's eyes widened at the use of colourful language and Della's animosity towards her supposed friend, but did not comment.

"Well, you can't stay here all night, it'll be getting dark soon. Think it would be wise to get back to town and …"

"No!"

"Look, I don't know what's happened but it's been a long day and I could do with a hot meal and my own bed and it would be good to get back before it gets dark," Buck reasoned.

"Don't let me stop you," Della replied, taking another drink.

"I can't leave you here." Buck was beginning to feel truly annoyed with the frustrating situation.

"Why not?"

"Because it wouldn't be right."

"Not right for who?"

"What?"

"Who wouldn't it be right for?"

"You of course."

"Aw, Buck. Didn't know you cared."

"I don't. I mean I do care that you're safe. And if something did happen to you, and Sam and Emma found I'd left you here, then I'd be in big trouble."

"So you just care about yourself ?" Della's eyes twinkled with mischief as she saw the confounded look on Buck's face.

Taking a moment to collect himself, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand, then wiping the rest of his face, Buck took a breath and took a more authoritative stance.

"Alright," he said more forcefully, "we're going back, so get rid of that bottle and come and get on your horse."

Della took another defiant drink and raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing.

Buck had lost all patience by now and strode purposefully towards the seated girl and made to grab her arm. What he hadn't anticipated was her ability to defend herself, which was one of the more useful things Sam had taught he during her time at the Rooster. She competently deflected his hand, by grabbing his thumb and bending it back, before kicking out and catching him on the shin with the heel of her boot.

Buck hopped back and clasped his lower leg and glared at Della with piercingly dark eyes. She returned the look with a pale, glacial eyes and he was sure he saw a flicker of a smile.

"What you do that for?" he growled.

"You man-handled me," she retorted.

"I did no such thing!" Buck exclaimed, his voice rising unusually louder than most people ever got to hear, horrified by her suggestion.

Della threw her head back and laughed, collapsing onto the ground.

"What's so funny?' he asked brusquely.

"You! You look so serious. Don't you ever smile or laugh, Buck Cross?" she taunted, raising her self onto her elbows.

"Only when there's something to smile or laugh at," he bit back. By now, her inebriated state was becoming increasingly annoying and his tolerance of the situation was wearing thin. It didn't help that, even though he found Della exasperating, at the same time he found her striking. Her pale eyes glinted in the light like the sun's rays on water, her fair hair swayed like fresh wheat and the low tones of her husky voice were as appealing as bird song. He couldn't help but notice the way her shirt strained across her ample breast and the way her prone body made him feel either.

Della shook her head in mock despair, a wave of soft, fair hair tumbling down her back, before taking another drink. "Perhaps you should have some of this," she said, proffering the bottle.

"No thanks and I think you've had enough too," Buck said curtly, purposefully looking away, chastising himself for the thoughts he was having about Della.

"I'll have had enough when I forget all about that son of a bitch, Sam Cain," she told him, taking another glug of whiskey. At these harsh words, Buck's head spun back round to look at Della.

She sat up, resting her arms on her knees, letting the bottle dangle from her hand, between her legs. "Damn him!" she cursed, taking another swig. Her head hung down, the curls of hair, which had loosened from her tie, obscuring her face but Buck somehow instinctively knew she was crying.

"What's happened, Della?" he asked more gently.

"He lied to me! All that time I thought he was someone I could trust, someone who actually cared but he was just out for himself," she snapped, jaw tight with anger.

"Sam?" Buck asked.

"Yes, Sam," she retorted sharply, swiping the back of her hand across her eyes.

"What did he lie about?" Buck wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer but felt compelled to ask. Out here in the open, on top of a bluff, he felt far removed from the rest of the world and inexplicably drawn to the young woman sitting in front of him. He knew he should not get involved, as he had enough problems to contend with but, at this moment, he saw a vulnerability in Della which brought out his protective, kind and caring nature.

Della did not respond, but remained with her head hanging forward, relinquishing a small sniff. Squatting down in front of her, he tilted his head to try and look at Della's face. "It really will be getting dark soon. How about we make camp for the night? I've got a little food left from my run we can share. I don't think you're in any fit state to go back now anyway," he told her kindly.

Della sniffed in a very unladylike manner, rubbing her nose with her hand and merely nodded her response. Buck stood up and instinctively held out his hand, which Della took and pulled her to her feet. As she became upright she swayed so Buck put his other hand on her shoulder to steady her. Before he knew what was happening she had thrown her arms around his neck, burying her head in his shoulder. He could feel her shuddering with the release of emotion. Wrapping his arms around her, they stood for a good few minutes until Buck felt Della become calmer. Taking hold of her upper arms he took a step back and smiled kindly at her, as she bowed her head but raised her eyes to gaze shyly up at him.

"Come on," he said softly, putting one arm around her shoulder and guiding her towards the stand of bushes where her horse was tethered.

O-O-O-O-O

Della stood quietly as Buck set about getting a makeshift camp together. She had made a half-hearted attempt to help by picking up kindling but bending over had made her giddy. Feeling a little woozy by now she decided standing still was the best option. She watched as the flames took hold of the pieces of wood Buck had arranged to start a fire, the light swimming before her eyes. As the world began to spin, Della wisely sat down before she fell down.

Buck gave Della a cursory glance as he headed to his horse to collect the remnants of the food Emma had packed for his run and his bedroll before joining her by the fire, where she sat with her head in her hands.

"You'll feel better with some food inside you," Buck told her. "Some coffee would have been good but we don't carry any pots on our runs, so you'll have to make do with water."

"I don't want any food – or water," she slurred, bringing the bottle, which she still held, to her lips.

Buck deftly snatched it away. "That's enough," he told her firmly, pouring the contents onto the ground.

Della glared at him. "Why the hell did you do that?" Her manner left him in no doubt that she wasn't pleased.

"It's not going to solve anything."

"It's my choice. You got no right what to tell me to do," she snapped back.

Buck drew a breath and then went back to the task of preparing some food. Della hugged her knees in tighter and maintained a sulky attitude. She knew Buck was right but at this moment she just wanted to forget everything: forget Sam and his betrayal, forget the Rooster and Meyer. She wished her life could be simpler but at the same time knew she had a certain amount of responsibility for making it even more complicated.

"Here." Buck proffered some bread and meat to her. She eyed it and then turned her head away. Buck thrust it further into her face. "Eat it," he commanded.

Taken a back by the forcefulness of his tone she took the food and took a tentative bite. "There. Happy now?" she sniped, as she swallowed down the small mouthful.

Buck arched an eyebrow but did not respond as he handed her a flask of water. This time she took it without comment.

Sitting cross-legged on the other side of the fire, Buck looked at Della through the heat haze from the flames. The wave of her lose hair framed her face, the light from the fire setting it aglow; her eyes flinted with the reflection. Once more Buck chided himself for the way she made him feel. A girl like her would never be interested in a half-breed, Express rider. A girl like Della would be setting her sights a lot higher.

By now the sun had sunk below the horizon and the earth began to cool rapidly without the warmth of its rays to sooth its surface. Della gave an involuntary shiver as the cold seeped through her thin jacket and blouse, as she hugged herself in an attempt to coax some warmth back into her body.

The movement was so silent and calm that Della wasn't aware that Buck had moved until he placed a blanket over her shoulders. As she looked up and gave him an appreciative smile he felt his heart lurch.

"Thank you," she murmured and he bowed his head slightly in recognition. As he made his way back to his place on the other side of the fire Della couldn't help but notice the graceful way he moved and, as he sat crossed legged on the other side of the fire, she regarded the way the light from the flames set off his fine features, making his large, dark eyes seem even more soulful.

"Guess it was a bit irresponsible ridin' out here on my own," she said, in way of starting a conversation.

"You obviously had your reasons," Buck replied considerately. "I can understand wanting to get away from the likes of Cody and Hickok. Much as I like all the boys at the station, one of the best things about the job is being able to escape from them on a run," he added with a smile.

Della smiled back. "I can imagine it gets a little tiresome workin' and livin' together."

Buck's eyes flashed momentarily. "It's the best thing that ever happened to me," he said with conviction.

"Was life so bad before you joined the Express?" Picking up a stick, Della poked at the fire whilst surreptitiously watching Buck. She noticed a myriad of emotions play on his handsome countenance.

"Yes," he finally answered, huskily.

"Why?" she persisted, giving the fire a more exuberant jab, sending sparks into the air.

"Not many folks out there willing to give people like me a chance. It wasn't easy getting work being a half breed," he answered sardonically.

"As far as I can see, you still are," Della replied dispassionately. "Joinin' the Express don't change that."

Buck squinted at her, trying to gauge whether there was an ulterior motive to her comments but there was no malice in her eyes, just a sadness and, what he interpreted as, an understanding.

"No," he said with a lighter tone. "But I met a few more misfits who accepted me for myself and not just the colour of my skin."

"I never really fitted in at the Rooster. I was more tolerated than accepted by the other girls. You're lucky to have a place where you feel you can belong, Buck." Della spoke softly but he detected the wistful nature of her words.

Buck didn't know too much about Della's past, only the little he had gleamed from Emma, which was Sam had known her from before he became a marshal and that she had no real family of which to speak. Perhaps this is why he was drawn to her, although the same could be said of all of the Express riders.

"Was this 'Rooster' where you worked?" he probed.

"Huh?" Della looked up, eyes wide, taken aback by his question. She hadn't meant to let slip details of her past. The alcohol had obviously loosened her tongue up a bit too much. But as she stared at Buck, across the campfire, she could see his interest was sincere. It had been a long time since a man had been interested to know about her without the ulterior motive of wanting something else of her. It was also nice to have someone to talk to of a similar age, to confide in and Buck seemed a suitable candidate.

Seeing the stunned look on Della's face Buck thought he had perhaps been too forward. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," he told her awkwardly.

Bringing herself back to her senses Della shook her head and replied, "No, it's fine. I owe you some sort of explanation. I mean, everyone has been nothing but kind to me since I showed up."

"Even Sam?" Buck pushed.

Della's eyes clouded briefly. "Even Sam," she murmured.

"What did he do to make you ride out here and drink nearly a whole bottle of whiskey?" Buck continued.

"It's a long story."

"Haven't got anything much else to do," Buck encouraged with a smile.

"Guess not." Della returned the smile, pulling the blanket more tightly around her shoulders.

Noticing this action, Buck reached for more wood to put on the fire. As the flame caught the fresh tinder it burned more brightly, illuminating their surroundings, giving Della a sense of security and comfort or perhaps the whiskey was still working. Which ever it was, this day was ending a lot better than she had anticipated.

Gazing into the flames she considered how much she should tell Buck. She wasn't proud of where she had lived for the last few years and didn't want too many people to know and think too badly of her.

Buck waited patiently, taking in Della's even features, the wave of her hair and expressive eyes. Thinking she might need a little more persuasion to tell her story he suggested," I find the beginning is often the best place to start."

Looking up at him, Della felt mesmerised by the dark intensity of his eyes and the compassion she was sure she could see.

"I ain't always been like this," she started softly. "I was born on a ranch." She spoke so quietly Buck moved closer so he could hear her better.

"My mother died of fever when I was about twelve years old so it was my father who looked after me from then on. It broke his heart when she died. He coped for a while but then the Rooster opened in town and he began to spend the occasional evening there. He began to go more and more often and became friends with the owner, Victor Meyer."

Della sighed, letting her head hang forward. "That's when things started to change. Pa wasn't at the ranch so much. I missed him takin' me out ridin'. Ed, his foreman took me a couple of times but it weren't the same. Pa just seemed so angry at times. I used to hide from him in the barn, which made him angrier. The men started leaving too. Ed stayed for a good while but even he left in the end. I didn't know why it was happenin'. We had a housekeeper who used to look after me but even she seemed to spend less time there. I think she only came to make sure I was all right in the end. Etta was kind enough but she stopped comin'."

"Who took care of you then?" Buck asked.

"I took care of myself. I was nearly thirteen by then and Etta had shown me a few things to cook. It wasn't the best but I got by. Pa was never hungry. He preferred to have a drink rather than eat," she said sadly, slipping into silence as the memories came creeping back.

Buck waited for her to continue for a few moments but when she seemed to have slipped into silence, he pushed by asking, "So how did you meet Sam?"

Pulled from her reverie, Della took a breath and continued, but the thought of Sam Cain darkened her attitude.

"He worked at the Rooster too. He was in charge of keepin' order, you know, throwing out cheats and drunks. When I first came to live there he looked out for me too and now I know why." Buck saw her expression harden and her eyes darken.

"What happened?" he enquired.

"Turns out it was Marshal Sam Cain who shot my Pa," she spat, her fists balled, her teeth clenched and tears welling.

Buck looked at her in disbelief. "Sam's a good man. He wouldn't do that."

"I wouldn't have believed it either. All the time he was so kind to me, makin' sure I was safe and nothin' bad happened to me. I never understood why he left but now I do. The guilt of what he'd done was too much."

"Are you sure?" Buck questioned.

"Heard it from his own lips, tellin' Mrs Shannon." Della swiped the back of her hand across her eyes, streaking the dust, which covered her face.

The confirming comment pushed Buck into contemplative silence. He had always held Sam in high regard so was finding it hard to accept but he could see no reason for Della to lie and she did seem genuinely upset. There must have been a reason for him to kill another man but now was not the time to ask more questions. Della was too drunk and emotional now. The best he could do was let her sleep it off some and get her back to the Way station in the morning.

Getting to his feet, Buck unfurled his bedroll.

"It's getting late and I need to get back early tomorrow or they'll be wondering if something happened on my run. Best we both get some rest," he told her, gesturing to the makeshift bed. "You'll feel better in the morning once you've slept on it. Talk to Sam when we get back. I'm sure there's an explanation."

Della merely snorted sceptically and sniffed loudly, trying to bring an end to her show of emotion. She had to admit that the thought of sleep had an appeal. It had been a long day and her injuries were not yet fully healed. Crawling on her hands and knees to the blanket Buck had laid out for her, she collapsed onto it unceremoniously.

The corners of Buck's mouth twitched in amusement at her unladylike behaviour but there was a certain amount of relief that this day seemed to be finally coming to an end. Pulling his coat more tightly about him, he sank back into his propped up saddle and closed his eyes.

O-O-O-O-O-O

Buck was even more tired than he realised and it wasn't long before he was asleep and dreaming of riding across the prairie after a fair haired girl, who kept turning in her saddle and laughing as he tried to catch up with her. Eventually he got close enough to reach out and take her arm but as she spun around and collapsed against his chest he was horrified to see Kathleen Devlin's face sneering up at him.

As he roused from his sleep he became aware that the warmth of physical contact was not a dreamt sensation, as he found Della drawing her body close up to him.

"What are you doing?" he rasped.

"I'm cold," she replied simply, draping her arm across his stomach.

Buck began to sit up but she merely pulled herself in closer. "You ain't gonna deny me a little warmth are you, Buck?" she murmured sleepily.

"It isn't right," came the hesitant reply.

"Being warm ain't right? Never heard that before," Della yawned. "You said yourself we've got an early start tomorrow so don't ya think we should get some sleep?" With a sigh she closed her eyes and snuggled in a little closer.

For a moment Buck did nothing but, the awkward position in which he was sat, hurried his decision. Drawing a breath he relaxed and sank back down against his saddle, with Della curled up alongside him, arm casually slung across his chest. He had to admit he welcomed the extra warmth from her body and the blanket she had drawn up over them. The drop in temperature at night was not to be taken lightly, which was another reason he had been so keen to get back to the way station and his warm comfortable bunk. He could not deny that have Della's soft, curvaceous form against his body was not a bad substitute.

He lay listening to her soft, rhythmic breathing, revelling in her physical proximity. He knew there would be many who would frown upon and be horrified by his behaviour - there would be people who would happily kill him for laying his hands on a white woman but, for now, there was no one to see and he was content to enjoy this unexpected pleasure.

For her part, Della feigned sleep. Buck's musty odour of sweat and leather was reassuring, reminding her of better times when she was at the ranch where she grew up, helping her Pa with the horses. Feeling him shift his body slightly she reached out further, her hand brushing against something which hung about his neck. She fingered the soft pouch, trying to detect what it held, with her fingers. She felt his hand cover hers and his long slim fingers wrap about her hand.

"What is it?" she asked,

"My medicine pouch. It protects and guides me."

Buck waited for the retort of scepticism or mockery but Della merely said, "I could do with one of those."

As they lay there her hand continue up the leather thong from which the pouch hung, twirling it between her fingers, travelling upwards. Releasing the leather she delicately ran her fingers along the soft skin of his neck. She felt him tense then heard a soft moan of pleasure. She continued to caress his neck for a short while before shifting position, replacing her fingers with her lips.

Buck took hold of her arm, pushing her off. "I .. Della, we shouldn't …"

"Don't tell me you ain't never been with a woman, Buck Cross. A good lookin' man like you must have a girl in every town," came the husky toned reply as she expertly extricated herself from his hold.

Her hand began to travel across his taut stomach muscles and then drifted lower down his body to the place which would pleasure him most, her lips returning to his neck, subjecting him to her teasing tongue.

Buck used every ounce of his self will to resist – but failed. Her moist lips made him tingle and her stroking hand caused a yearning deep inside he had never experienced so fully before.

Soft moans of delight crept through the still night air, as both sought solace. Buck began his own exploration of the soft mounds of her body, down over her curvaceous hips, stroking her back, letting his hand wander down to fill his palm with rounded cheeks. He knew it wasn't right but she had initiated it and in all his nineteen years he had never had a woman offer herself so willingly. An Express rider he may be but out here, where no one could see, he was a young man reaching his peek, with little, or close to, no experience in such relations.

As her fingers began to fumble with the ties on his pants some inner voice, from deep inside, spoke to Buck. The voice reminded him of the repercussions and possible outcome his actions at this point, may have. He saw his mother and the shame on her face as others in the village taunted her about her pale skinned son. He envisaged his mother frowning at him which was enough to make him grab Della's hand, pull it away and scramble to his feet.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he gasped, shaking his head.

Della blinked at him, taken aback from his sudden departure, before releasing a languid yawn. "You seemed to be enjoyin' yourself and now I'm feelin' kinda cold. How about we just lay next to each other to keep warm?" she cajoled.

"Better not," Buck said quietly, buttoning his shirt and pulling his jacket closer about him. "I'll see to the fire. Why don't you get some more rest?"

Pulling the blanket back over her body, Della curled up, gave another yawn and drifted back to sleep.

Squatting down by the fire, Buck glanced over his shoulder at her sleeping form. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and held the breath for a few seconds, steeling himself against his natural yearnings.

As he threw more wood on the fire he made a vow to keep away from Della Dawson. She would only bring him heartache. He knew that in the morning, when she was sober, she would either have no recollection of or only regret that night's events.

Buck spent the remainder of the night sat besides the fire, ever vigilant in case Della should wake again.

...

_So that was the chapter I was dreading writing as I feel more comfortable writing action and angst. I have no more fully written chapters so they may be a little slower coming - for those of you still interested to find out who Della will lose her heart to. Thanks for reading and reviewing._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The throbbing in her head told Della she was awake. She lay with her eyes closed, not daring to open them as a wave of nausea rose up into her throat. Remaining as still as possible she swallowed back the urge, drawing in a deep breath of fresh air. The dehydration she felt intensified as she found it hard to swallow, her tongue feeling too large for her mouth, as the thudding in her head continued.

Vague memories of the previous night began to drift back. She could remember waking and feeling the stinging jabs of the cold, which had crept into her body as she slept. Urged on by her instincts to find the comfort of warmth and, without really considering what she was doing, she had gone in search of the much needed heat source. It then dawned on her that she had moved over to lie with Buck. This had seemed the reasonable thing to do in her drunken state; her own basic needs outweighing propriety. Besides, she had been in other people's beds more that she wished to remember. When the Rooster got busy and rooms were occupied she would have to share a bed with one of the other girls and was not unfamiliar with lying with a man, if only to keep the peace with Meyer.

But lying with Buck had been different. Not only had she found the warmth she craved but also comfort. Although the details were unclear she could recall feeling …. She wasn't quite sure what it was. Cared for? Respect? Or perhaps it was all in her imagination. No man had ever offered her any of those before – apart from Sam and now she knew it was only his sense of guilt, which had afforded her those things. Men were after only one thing in her experience and she was sure a half- breed, like Buck, was no exception.

As she turned these thoughts over in her head, her eyes still closed she became aware of soft footsteps approaching. Opening her left eye she looked upon a large knife strapped to a boot, causing both eyes to fly open in panic.

"Morning. Thought you might be needing this," Buck said in dulcet tones, holding out a canteen of water.

Della looked up at him, her face pale and blotchy. She was about to accept the canteen when an inner urge made her clamp her hand over her mouth, get to her feet and stagger towards a near by bush.

"I'll leave it here for you then," Buck said quietly, dropping the canteen on the ground, knowing she would not have heard him. Quite possibly she wouldn't want anything to do with him ever again. His face flushed with shame and embarrassment. Perhaps he was becoming more like his father, whoever he may be, willing to take advantage of a woman, although he couldn't say it had seemed to be against Della's will. On the contrary, she had instigated it but that didn't make him feel any better. He should never have complied, but it was too late now.

Angry at himself and his lack of composure, he stomped over to the horses and began to prepare them for the journey back to the Way station. It wasn't far but it was going to be one of the longest rides of his life.

Having relieved herself of the contents of her stomach, Della wasn't sure if it made her feel better or worse. She held onto a small branch, in an attempt to stop swaying. By now there was a constant beating in her head and her throat constricted with dehydration. Taking a deep breath she prepared to make the short walk back to where the canteen lay on the ground. In a determined attempt to act normally she walked purposefully towards it and bent down to pick it up. She almost instantly regretted the action, the blood rushing to her head, making her feel woozy all over again. She managed to quell the feeling and took a thirsty gulp of the water. As the cool liquid coursed down her throat she felt thankful for the relief it gave. She had overindulged on liquor before but never to this extent.

As she brought the canteen down from her mouth she saw Buck looking at her, his left eyebrow raised. She found his expression perplexing. He didn't seem angry but he clearly wasn't impressed either. In truth what she thought she saw was sympathy. Perhaps her actions of the previous night had ingratiated her to him after all.

She gave him a weak smile.

"We should get moving." The words were stated simply, as matter of fact, leaving Della in no doubt that what had happened between them had been a big mistake.

O-O-O-O-O

Every stride the horse made seemed to make her stomach lurch and head pound. Della held grimly onto the horn of her saddle, keeping her eyes fixed on her horse's grey ears as they flicked back and forward with each stride. Even that simple movement was making her feel queasy.

Buck's frustration at the slow pace was palpable as he sighed loudly every now and again and kept turning in his saddle to look at her. Try as she might Della could not bear to go any faster than a jogging trot and only managed that for a short while. She knew Buck was cross with her because of the slow pace and also for her actions the previous night. She was angry with herself too. To act with such dissipation had been foolish in her present predicament and she could only hope Buck wouldn't hold a grudge. She needed to keep all of the Express riders on side and she had a feeling they all looked out for each other. To upset one meant upsetting them all.

Buck turned in his saddle to look at Della for about the tenth time in almost as many minutes. She still looked pale and unsteady on her horse. He noted how well trained the animal was, staying steady and responding to the smallest shift Della made, almost sensing that all was not quite right with his rider.

They had barely said two words to each other; Della wrapped up in how wretched she felt and Buck embarrassed and ashamed. As Della lifted her head Buck turned back around to face front. She did not miss the action.

Squeezing her legs on her horse's sides, she urged him into a trot and drew up alongside Buck, who flicked a sidelong glance in her direction.

"Guess I over did it a bit last night," Della said.

Buck didn't know quite how to respond, not quite sure to what she was referring – the whiskey or seduction.

"I don't even like whiskey," she added, allowing Buck to expel a breath of relief. "I guess Mrs Shannon ain't going to be too impressed," she continued miserably.

"She doesn't have to know about the whiskey," Buck said in a quiet husky voice.

Della looked over at him, eyes wide in surprise.

"You can say you went riding and got lost," he stated simply.

"Do you think she'll fall for that?"

"I don't see why not, especially if I back you up."

"You'd do that for me?" Della questioned.

"Yes," he rasped. "But I do think you need to talk to Sam, " he added, before pushing his horse into a faster lope, afraid he might say something he would regret.

Della watched him pull ahead, then smirked and kicked her own mount forward to catch up, suddenly feeling a whole lot better.

O-O-O-O-O

Emma scanned the horizon as she crossed the yard to the bunkhouse to give the riders their breakfast. Della still had not returned and she had expected Buck to ride in the previous night. She was sure that he would be fine and had probably just been held up but she had no idea what had happened to Della. Knowing Sam would need to be told about the girl's disappearance she decided to go on into town straight after giving the riders their breakfast.

There was still no sign of either Buck or Della as she started to clear away the plates.

"Jimmy, would you saddle a horse for me, please?" she asked, as she wiped down the table.

"Sure Emma. You goin' for a ride? Want some company.?" he replied casually.

"Thank you but no. I'm going to ride into town to let Sam know that Della has gone." The bluntness of her response took Jimmy off guard.

"We don't know that for sure, Emma. She could be laying hurt somewhere. Fallen off her horse or somethin'. Don't you think we should go looking for her before we tell Sam?"

Emma opened her mouth to reply but before she say anything she was interrupted by Cody, shouting from the doorway, "Riders comin' in. Looks like Buck and Della."

Jimmy dashed to the door, leaving Emma to expel a breath of relief. She hadn't been looking forward to telling Sam of her houseguest's hasty departure.

Cody was the first to reach Della's horse. From her appearance there was no doubt she had been in some sort of trouble. He turned to Buck, who was just swinging down from his own horse.

"What the hell happened?" Cody demanded.

Buck fixed him with a steady eye and calmly replied, "Miss Dawson went riding and lost her way," – which wasn't too far from the truth! "I came across her last evening on my way back."

"Why you only getting back now then?" Cody demanded.

"It was getting dark so I thought it was safer to wait until this morning to ride back."

Narrowing his eyes at his fellow rider, Cody had to bite his lip in order to prevent him saying something that would stir up a whole lot of trouble.

While this confrontation was going on, Jimmy had stepped forward and was assisting Della down from the saddle. "You all right?" he said gruffly.

"I'm fine, thank you," Della responded somewhat meekly, as she caught sight of Emma over his shoulder.

"We've been real worried about you," he added, touching her arm lightly.

She gave him a reassuring smile, laying her own hand over his. "I'm just fine. Buck took real good care of me."

At this remark, Buck darted a look in her direction, only to receive a conspiratorial smirk, causing Buck's cheeks to flush.

By now Emma had joined them. She stood in front of Della, mouth in a hard, straight line. Della had the good grace to look slightly sheepish. Raising her chin a little, Emma gave the girl the once over, folded her arms and said, "Well, you look fine, if a little pale. Like to tell me what happened?"

"Nothing much to tell. I decided to take a ride. I got lost. Buck found me but it was getting dark so we camped out for the night," Della replied, in matter of fact tones.

"Hmm," was Emma's only response. She knew the girl was not being totally straight with her, the slight odour of alcohol on her breath giving a clue as to the real events.

"You got anything to add, Buck?" Emma asked, directing a stern look in his direction. Dropping his gaze, fingering the reins of his horse, he simply said, "No."

Buck's reaction convinced Emma that there was more to tell and she intended to find out, but for now she would let the matter drop.

"Well, you both look like you could do with somethin' to eat. Why don't you go wash up and …."

Her words trailed off as the sound of an approaching rider could be heard. As they came into view Emma immediately recognised Sam's familiar figure. She felt a wave of relief that Della was back but knew she'd have to tell Sam of the girl's escapade.

Pulling his horse to a stop near the assembled group, Sam nodded a greeting. Looking Della up and down, taking in her dishevelled appearance, Sam frowned but that was not his immediate concern.

"Morning Sam," Della said, smiling coquettishly.

Sam's response was blunt and to the point. "Victor Meyer's in town looking for you, saying you stole from him."

Della's eyes widened and she paled even more, for once at a loss for words. She thought she would be prepared for this moment but now it was here she wasn't feeling quite as assured.

...

_Sorry for the delay in adding to this story. Finding it hard to find writing time at the moment but hopefully the chapters will keep trickling in until it's finished. Thanks for your patience and all the lovely reviews. I know Della isn't everyone's idea of the perfect girl for any of the boys but I think it would take quite a woman to take on any of them!_


	11. Chapter 11

**_Sorry for the delay in updating. As the weather gets warmer I spend more time in my painting studio so writing takes a bit of a back seat. This chapter is a little hastily written but hopefully will serve to move the story along._**

**...**

Della's head was swimming. She felt nauseous again but it wasn't totally due to her alcohol consumption the previous evening. The mere thought of Victor Meyer made her skin crawl but she had to maintain control. Her feelings towards Sam weren't clear yet either. Having thought she could depend on him she now wasn't so sure.

As a myriad of thoughts ran through her head she suddenly became aware that a number of eyes were focussed on her and that Sam was saying her name.

"Dee? It'll be all right. We'll get it sorted. I always thought that grey gelding was yours. Seem to remember you brung him from the ranch with you. Called him Blue didn't you?"

Della blinked a few times, her mouth dropping open but no words came as she tried to focus on what Sam was saying.

Seeing the confusion on her face, Sam placed a hand on her shoulder, leaned forward a little closer and spoke more directly. "Meyer's saying you stole the horse, Dee."

At those words a strained laugh escaped from Della, as she threw back her head looked to the sky, blinking back tears of relief. With a deep breath she got her emotions back in check and composed herself.

"That horse is mine and Victor knows it," she told Sam assuredly. "My Pa gave him to me when he was a colt. He showed me how to gentle break a horse with him. Blue's the only thing I have left from that part of my life. Victor's got no right to try and take him from me."

Della's hard tones left no one in any doubt she meant what she said. Looking around the assembled group of people she saw a range of reactions, from Ike's awkward embarrassment, Cody's wide eyed surprise and Jimmy's set jaw of defiance. Then she caught Buck's eye and saw what she could only describe as compassion.

"Well, we still got mail to run so yous boys better get back to work and let Sam deal with this little predicament," Teaspoon interjected pointedly, emphasising each syllable of his last word. Della was proving to be more of a problem than he had bargained for and horse thieving was a serious charge. He had every faith Sam would get it sorted but he didn't need his riders getting involved.

As the riders skulked off Emma called out, "Buck, you go wash up and I'll bring you something to eat directly."

Buck nodded his head in understanding and flicked a look at Della before he turned and led his horse, and the grey gelding at the centre of the allegation, towards the barn.

As he started to walk away Della called out, "Thanks for taking such good care of me last night, Buck." He didn't dare acknowledge her as he knew his cheeks were burning crimson so he just kept walking.

It was Sam's turn to look confused now. "Why did Buck have to take care of you last night?" he asked warily. The steady gaze Della sent his way left him none the wiser.

"I'm sure Della can tell us all about it after she's got herself cleaned up and had some breakfast," Emma responded, taking the girl firmly by the arm and directing her towards the house, leaving Sam standing in the yard feeling perplexed. This day was getting more and more frustrating.

O-O-O-O-O-O

"So, let me get this right. You went for a ride to exercise your horse and got lost? And Buck found you but it was too late to get home?"

Sam was sat across the table from Della in Emma's kitchen, while the girl devoured a plate of ham and eggs. Emma had taken the same meal out to Buck, feeling it would be better to hear their stories separately. Besides, she would know if Buck wasn't being totally truthful to her.

"Uh huh," Della replied before taking a sip of coffee.

"Seems a might strange you getting lost like that. I mean you managed to get here all the way from Ogallala. You sure there ain't somethin' you ain't tellin' me?" Sam quizzed further.

"Sure," was the blunt reply, just before Della rammed a large piece of ham into her mouth in a not very ladylike manner, giving her an excuse not to elaborate further.

'Well I think you owe Emma an apology. She must have been worried sick not knowin' where you'd got to. At least it was Buck who found you. God knows what might have happened if he hadn't." Sam took a sip of his own coffee, peering over the rim of the mug at Della. "I know you ain't tellin' me everythin'," he stated, placing the mug back on the table.

"Well, that makes two of us," Della shot back, her hard tone taking the Marshal by surprise.

"What's that s'pposed to mean? What haven't I told you?" As soon as the words had left Sam's mouth he felt a flush of guilt. Looking at the piercing, hard, pale eyes across the table from him he instinctively knew that something had irked the girl.

Della knew she needed Sam's help with Meyer but knew she had to confront him about how her father had died by his hand. She wasn't sure she'd ever really forgive him and knew things could never be the same between them again but ironically he was the only person in this world to whom she felt she could turn.

Putting down her fork and pushing her now empty plate away, Della leaned back in her chair. Her calm and controlled appearance belied the churning she felt in the pit of her stomach.

"I know you shot my Pa," she stated, as she watched Sam intently, searching his countenance to gauge his reaction.

For a moment Sam just stared back at her, his eyes and mouth wide, unsure how to respond. "Dee … I …. How did you find out?" he eventually asked.

"I overheard you and Mrs Shannon talking yesterday." Her reply was blunt as she held her emotions in check.

"That's why you rode off yesterday." Sam sighed and sat back in his own chair, mirroring Della. "I'm sorry Dee. I never meant for you to find out like that."

"So you were gonna tell me some time then?" Her tone was now accusing.

"I'm not sure," he replied honestly, dropping his gaze, unable to meet her eyes. "I never expected to see you again and had pushed it to the back of my mind. I moved on from that part of my life but then when you showed up …."

"Why'd you shoot him, Sam?" The question was asked softly, almost tentatively.

"It just happened so quickly. Your Pa drew a gun on Meyer and had every intention of killing him. I guess I just reacted and before I knew what was happening I'd pulled the trigger. There ain't a day goes by that I don't wish it had happened differently."

"I guess my Pa must have had a good reason to wanna kill Victor. Seems a shame you didn't let him but I guess it wouldn't have been much better for me if he had," Della commented philosophically.

"It's in the past now, Dee but we got to deal with Meyer now. He and a couple of his boys rode into town this mornin'. It won't take them too long to find out where you are. I don't wanna go bringing no trouble to Emma's door."

"I know," Della replied. "I need to get some rest before I face him. Go back to town and tell him I'll come and see him later."

Sam regarded the young girl before him. Life had been difficult but it had made her strong and self-assured. He knew she had seen and done things that no girl of her age should have but he had to admire the way she had come through and the young woman she had become.

Getting to his feet, Sam scooped his hat from the table and made towards the door. "I'll tell him but you come by my office and get me first. I ain't gonna let you down this time, Dee." As he lifted the latch on the door he hesitated a moment and turned to look at her. "I am truly sorry for killin' your Pa. Just want you to know that."

Della gave a brief nod of acknowledgment and as Sam left the house she released a long breath, letting the tears, which had been threatening, finally fall.

O-O-O-O-O

"D'you want more ham, Buck?" Emma asked as he had nearly finished what was on his plate.

"No thank you," came the polite and softly spoken reply, as he started to rise from the table.

"Now you just stay there and I'll get you some coffee," Emma told him.

Buck was about to say he didn't really want any coffee but before he could open his mouth, Emma had placed a steaming cup before him. She then sat opposite him, placing the cloth she had been using on the tabletop, as she began to neatly fold it in a deliberate manner.

"So, you gonna tell me what happened last night with Della?"

Although he had been expected questions Buck was still taken aback by Emma's directness.

"Nothing happened, Emma," he quickly replied.

"If it was one of the other boys, like Cody or Hickok I wouldn't be so quick to believe them but I know you're honourable, Buck so had no concerns over your behaviour."

Buck dipped his head in an attempt to hide the flush of colour he knew was showing on his face. He didn't feel very honourable at this moment.

"Besides, I wasn't really referring to your behaviour. I know Della had been drinking alcohol as I could smell it on her breath this mornin'. I'd like to know what she'd been up to."

Buck looked up and Emma couldn't help thinking how appropriate his name was, at his wide-eyed expression like a startled deer.

Buck knew it was pointless trying to lie to Emma as she had this uncanny ability to tell straight away when one of them wasn't being truthful. Besides, he had too much respect for this woman who had become the nearest to being a mother that he had known for many years. Della hadn't really done anything wrong and telling Emma might actually help.

"She was upset. She heard you and Sam talking yesterday. She knows how her father died."

Buck didn't bother to dress it up. Emma had asked so he had told her. As he looked at her now he could see her struggling to hide the emotion she felt, as she tried to maintain an impassive countenance.

"I see," she finally replied, in a clipped voice. Then her expression softened and she reached out across the table and laid her hand on top of Buck's, smiling kindly.

"I am real glad it was you that found her, Buck. It must have been quite a shock for the poor girl and I now you'd have taken good care of her. I just hope she and Sam can sort things out. I know she's a real pretty girl, Buck but be careful. Don't get involved. I got a feeling Della's got a whole lot more secrets she ain't tellin' us and I don't want you getting' hurt. You understand?"

Buck could only nod in response; the sense of guilt was overwhelming. He knew what Emma was saying was true but he couldn't help feeling disappointed at the same time. There weren't many chances for any sort of intimacy with a girl, especially for someone like him and he hadn't met many girls who made him have those feelings.

"Well, you get some rest now. You had a tiring night, what with your run and all. I'll make sure you're not disturbed," Emma told him as she rose from the table, taking the cloth and Buck's cup.

After Emma had left the bunkhouse, Buck remained sitting at the table, a myriad of thoughts cascading through his head. That moment of intimacy with Della had stirred up feelings he had tried to suppress, reasoning it would be unwise to allow them to develop. He couldn't help feeling concern. She had genuinely been upset the night before and he had detected fear when Sam had told her that this man, Meyer, was in town looking for her. Their encounter had given Buck a sense of responsibility and he couldn't help feeling protective towards her. He knew he'd have to be discreet but he couldn't just forget about Della.

O-O-O-O-O

Try as she might, Della just couldn't fall asleep. Thoughts of Meyer and what she was going to say to him darted through her mind. She was glad she had spoken to Sam although she still wasn't clear how she felt about him but for now she needed him so would keep up the charade until she had dealt with Meyer.

Pulling the bedclothes further over her head, to block out more daylight, her thoughts turned to the previous night. Although much of it was blurry, pieces of what had happened came floating back. As she lay curled under a blanket she was sure she could still smell him on her fingers and taste him on her lips. The memory caused a soft smile to crease her own lips and her eyes closed as she finally drifted off to sleep.


End file.
